Colonization: First Contact
by G.I.U.L.I.O
Summary: A message from Nightmare Moon makes Princess Luna wary of what the stars could bring. When a massive human colony ship arrives Pony life will change forever. Bad summary. Rated M mostly for safety war/diplomatic themes and possible adult scenes later on.
1. A Message from the Darkness

Night reigned upon Equestria, its dark veil covering the land, sea and sky. Shy of a few nocturnal insects the wildlife laid asleep, blissfully ignorant of their surroundings and the small events of the night. Likewise Canterlot was almost devoid of activity; had it been a smaller village or town like Appleloosa or Ponyville all of its residents would be asleep. The Royal Guard kept a few patrols throughout the night and some ponies had nightly activities or duties, but none of them were particularly alert as one pony: Princess Luna.

Princess Luna had never slept through a night like other ponies because she, unlike most, marveled continually over the vastness and sheer beauty of the night sky and moon. Why wouldn't she? If Luna detested the night she wouldn't have taken on the responsibility of controlling nightfall on a daily basis. Despite having done the task for centuries the stars and light spectacles in the night sky still held some secrets that she could only guess at. Contrary to popular pony belief she and her sister Celestia did not create night and day; they controlled the transitions between the two. Granted the cycles of night and day did still occur naturally but the shift was very fast, creating essentially hour-long days. This was less than conducive to not only any progression of life in Equestria but the survivability of it as well. A heavy burden lay upon both the Princesses' haunches, if it weren't for either of them, life on the world would have been very different. As such while both Celestia and Luna - especially Luna - knew more about the moon and stars than the average pony they didn't quite know what to make of the vast space that covered the distance between their world, the moon, stars... and possibly beyond. Why was it so dangerous and difficult to traverse the cold darkness? Pegasi would die if they tried to fly through it (or at least be discouraged enough to turn back); unicorns would drain their energy far too soon attempting to levitate themselves, let alone casting a protective bubble on themselves to make the journey through the black space; and earth ponies... well, they had no chance whatsoever of making it through, not by themselves at least. Only alicorns, with their wings and magic, could travel between their world, the moon and beyond.

It was a sad fact that only two Alicorns existed: Celestia and Luna. Their responsibility over Equestria kept them from trying to travel to the stars. It wasn't so much the risk of never returning as it was as the possible futility of such an attempt. What if they just couldn't reach the stars? What if they were just lights? Was there anything else beyond them and if so would it be worth trying to reach the as-of-yet unknown? As vast as space was Celestia was assured that there was nothing beyond the stars. Luna, on the other hand, didn't share her sister's certainty. Not that she didn't believe her sister, but it had been due to the dark entity that had once possessed her: Nightmare Moon.

Nightmare Moon was a mystery to all. It was a widely accepted belief that Nightmare Moon was a dark personality within Luna which took a life of its own a millennia ago and taken over the princess. When the Bearers of Harmony defeated Nightmare Moon and freed Luna from her grasp, everypony believed that Nightmare Moon was gone for good. But Luna thought differently; Nightmare Moon had never been created by her. She was, as far as Luna knew, a foreign entity which harbored in Luna, took her form and twisted it in Nightmare's image. When Luna was released from Nightmare Moon, she felt the touch of another consciousness as it left a very clear message in Luna's mind. She cringed and was left baffled every time she heard those cold words speak in her head and did her best to keep them from surfacing but the message repeated itself to her occasionally:

'_Look to the moon my sweet Luna. A great tribulation will befall in due time, and neither me, you, Celestia, or anypony else will be able to stop it. _They_ are coming from beyond._'

A chilling message by itself, what truly frightened Luna was the tone of it: it sounded soft, compassionate and... scared. Why would Nightmare Moon be so empathetic? Luna supposed that the Bearers of Harmony's purifying powers have had some effect on her yet it didn't explain the frightened tone. Luna knew that Nightmare Moon did not scare easily. True, she was shocked at the turnabout when she confronted those six ponies a year back, but that had been surprise more than fear. The tone of her voice reciting the message each time seemed to fill with more and more dread. What shook Luna the most was that ever since Nightmare Moon left her, the times she heard that message grew in frequency. What did it all mean? Was this supposed crisis upon them? Who was coming and where was this beyond? The stars?

Such questions bred much doubt in Luna's mind and she was unsure as to do with the information that her former alter ego provided her with. She had never discussed it or Nightmare Moon's possible external origins to anyone, least of all her sister. Not only that, but what would the others make of the chance that there was life beyond the stars? It had often been debated by the older and philosophically-inclined ponies throughout history, yet it could neither be proven nor disproved thus most accepted that there was likely nothing beyond the stars. If Luna were to publicize the message it'd either get a big laugh from most or plenty of wide-opened jaws. Despite the ever-present chance of it being possible it'd just be too much for anypony.

Yet what would she have to do then? Nightmare Moon has never been by any means a prophet, yet she was far from ignorant, and her unknown origins could have let her know about something that even Celestia would be unaware about. Luna's good judgment demanded that she tell her sister, yet it had been so long since she kept it a secret, how would Celestia react knowing that her sibling kept something from her for so long? A nagging doubt clouded her decision and as such Luna kept quiet. She contemplated that the best course of action was to follow what the message said: keep an eye on the stars and moon.

Luna then noticed a shooting star. Odd considering that she had seen another one a few nights back; shooting stars were very rare in Equestria. Yet Luna was struck by the shooting star's direction: it seemed to be moving away from her, instead moving towards the moon. It disappeared as swiftly as it had appeared but Luna got a good look at it. She's seen many shooting stars during her long life, each and everyone unique in its way. Yet she could swear that it was the same one from a few nights before: Its light was of the same color, same intensity, and its trail was the same length as well! Luna had no idea what to make of this. Perhaps it was a coincidence. Perhaps it just was nothing of importance.

At least, she _hoped_ that it was nothing.

* * *

><p>A metallic contraption flew across space at astonishing speeds. It passed by planets and stars; within mere hours it had traveled past the solar system's star and headed towards the orbit of the eleventh celestial body. The dwarf planet itself was nothing but a frozen mass of rock and dirt thus it was of no real interest. It had four satellites of various sizes orbiting it, each with their own unique atmospheres, each of considerable scientific value. Yet from afar it seemed as if there was a fifth satellite orbiting the dwarf planet. More surprising was that it was not a moon like the other four, but a body of artificial origins, a ship to be exact.<p>

It was impossibly massive, grayish-white in coloration. Its cigar-like shape was filled with various lights emanating from within. It moved silently, propelled by a cluster of gigantic engines in one end which spat out equally-large blue flames. Upon closer inspection it was possible to discern markings on the sides of the ship which designated it as _UNS Promise_. A representation of a single white star on a blue circle with a bold red outline was its ensign. This ship had traveled many light-years, wandering around a range of systems, without any real sense of direction. Yet there it was, noiselessly wading through the black space towards a blue planet on the other side of the system. Curiously this was the same planet from which the device had taken off.

It appeared as if the projectile-like machine was on a head-on collision course with the vastly larger ship. Moving considerably faster than the ship, it was soon upon the ship when it started to veer slightly and to slow down. Progressing for miles along the side of the ship it came upon a large docking bay. An invisible force pulled on the machine, disappearing in the hull of the ship.

The ship's journey continued as normal.

* * *

><p>A mechanical hiss stirred the mind of Angus Addens into wakening. At first he wasn't sure what had transpired but with multiple clicks and a <em>whoosh<em>, he remembered, now basked in light. He struggled to open his eyes and when they were opened his vision was unfocused, blurry blotches of colors filled his sight. "Good morning Commodore," a soft feminine voice spoke, "good to see you've made it." Angus felt very light yet stiff; blinking a few times to get his eyes to focus he raised his arms to stretch them, finding them sluggish to move. His sight focused to a point where he recognized that the figure standing by him was a medical officer. Angus winced when the medical officer then flashed something into his eyes.

"Vitals look normal," the officer said, mostly to herself, "seems like there's some slight muscle fatigue, but that's to be expected." Angus ignored her and grabbed the sides of his cylinder-shaped stasis chamber. With a grunt he heaved himself out of it and stood precariously unbalanced on the cold metal-ceramic flooring. The officer grabbed him to keep Angus from falling over.

He looked over at her, his vision now restored and recognized her face: a brunette. "G'morning Doc," he said. His mouth felt like mush and so did his words.

The doctor chuckled. "Vocal function is optimal I see."

Angus felt strength and feeling returning to his numb body and when the medical officer let go of him he stretched his body as much as he could. _By God does it feel good_.

Some stretches later he turned his attention to the doctor. "Did we find one?"

The medical officer shrugged but still kept a smile, "I'm not sure sir, but I've already awoken some of the technicians to go over the ship's and probes' data. Most of the ship's crew and science team are waking up now; we've kept the colonists in suspension."

He nodded and stretched once more, a yawn escaping from his mouth and his spine making a small _crack_. _That hit the spot_, he thought to himself noticing that he no longer felt stiff or numb. "I'd better get me some proper clothes and uniform," he muttered, commenting on his stark white t-shirt and boxers.

"Should I take you to your quarters sir?"

Angus shook his head. "Thanks, but my brain hasn't been turned to goop. I still remember the way."

The medical officer nodded and took her leave to supervise another cryogenic chamber. It was only then that the commodore noticed that people were being put out of hibernation by other medical staff; most of them looked too dazed to actually go anywhere for a while. Smiling at the prospect that no-one seemed to have died during the trip Angus made his way out in one of the elevators. He selected the appropriate floor and the elevator took off. As Angus waited he rubbed his chin, feeling the short studs - the beginning of a beard. He made a mental note to shave before leaving. _Gotta look presentable during the senior officers' meeting_.

* * *

><p>A terminal operator had a multitude of screens staring down on him, the brightness lighting up his face. He was looking intently at one screen in particular, the headline on it reading <em><span>KRIG 7B PROBE RECORDS<span>._ His eyes widened in amazement as he read more and more the report. He quickly brought up another screen to check the probe's settings to see if the information that it brought back wasn't perchance incorrect. After running tests twice and once more for good measure he concluded that the probe had indeed functioned properly as intended and the report was correct.

"Amazing," he said to himself continuing to read the report. The descriptions of the various wildlife matched those of those like those of Earth: Birds, stags, cows, dogs, buffaloes... it just seemed too good to be true.

The wide smile on his face twisted to a shocked look when he came up on the section on SENTIENT BEINGS. The file detailed various structures placed in such a manner that the probe reasoned that cities were located on the planet. And according to it, they were still_ inhabited_.

The operator blinked. That was the end of the particular file, no description of the beings was available. "Well what the hell are they then?" he demanded at the screen in the vain hope that'd it provide an answer, "Are they humanoids? Grey matters? _What?_"

He checked the file on wildlife and scrutinized it with a more attentive eye. Only then did he notice certain discrepancies: some of the described animals were incompatible with Earthly standards, noting that a considerably larger percentage of animals were aviary; others like the buffalos and cows seemed to have a different behavioral pattern to that of their Earthly counterparts (an error line described that the observation was inconclusive). It was interesting but it still didn't help determine the supposedly still active sentient beings. Then something had caught his eye:

On the Krig 7B's horse-like creatures it had kept repeating the same error line over and over: _ERROR: conflicting results (equipment malfunction/error?)_. The error didn't appear nowhere else as much as it did on the horses observation and the operator couldn't really make much out of it. Perhaps it was indeed an equipment malfunction as the probe deduced, but he found it odd that the probe failed when observing the horse-like creatures (if the probe was not sure, how could he be sure?). The operator dismissed the error and continued scouring the wildlife observations for a possible candidate of being a creature with logical thinking. After some twenty minutes of searching he was unable to discern a sentient being from any of the of the planet's fauna. How the hell was he gonna explain this in his report to the science team and officers? If he'd reported the errors and discrepancies the top brass would be all over him attempting to understand why the probe was unable to identify any sentient beings when it reported them still living in them?

He buried his head under his arms in frustration. "Useless piece of shit can't even make up its mind," he muttered to himself, pondering on his options. A criminal thought came rolling around his head. _I _could_ fake the report and say that the sentient beings went extinct or-_

The operator shook his head. _No, no, no. They'd put me in chains if I did that._ He deliberated over the options for a few more minutes when he realized that there was no other reasonable alternative. He sighed and began compiling his synthesized version of the report, without lying or leaving anything out.

He knew that he would regret this.

* * *

><p>The meeting at the command station was composed of some twenty members from the officer staff and science team. Tobias Waldvogel, the senior biologist of the science team, was among the group attending. It had been no more than two hours since they had been brought out of cryogenic sleep so by now any lingering illnesses common from being pulled out of a stasis chamber had passed. Yet Tobias sensed something was off. He couldn't, for the life of him understand what it was, but he could see that most of the officers had a concerned look about them. Perhaps if a meeting between officials was held so soon after finding a planet might have indicated that something was wrong. Yet if that was the case, then what was wrong?<p>

The attendees stood to attention when the ship's commodore entered the room. Angus Addens' stature was quite imposing to Tobias. True, Tobias was quite short himself and Angus couldn't have been any more than 1.8 meters tall, but the dogged look on his face was quite a sight. The 51-years-old commander was beginning to show his age, his cheekbones were becoming more prominent and his dark-hazel eyes were sinking into their sockets. He was clean-shaved like any good officer, and his hair, aging brown, was a variant of a military cut which allowed for some hair to grow more on the back of his head and neck: it wasn't hung loose, there was hair that covered those back areas. His uniform matched those of the other commanding officers within yet it was more elaborate. The uniform consisted of a navy blue suit coat, trousers, white shirt, and four-in-hand necktie. The jacket was double breasted with six gold-colored buttons and the gold sleeve stripes denoted his rank. While the full uniform included a blue combination cap the commodore had no love for hats when the situation did not require for it.

Angus took his spot on the round table and began to speak with a noticeable South African twang. "Good morning everyone," he greeted, looking around the table taking in each face, "as you may all guess, one of our probes has returned with a positive reading from the planet Krig 7B: the first during our 89 years in deep space."

This lit up the faces of the science team members. However Tobias noticed that the same could not be said for the officers, most still wearing an anxious expression. What did they know that the science team didn't?

"As per protocol the ship's AI system had sent an advanced probe to orbit around the planet for a more detailed analysis," he continued, apparently not noticing the worried looks on his subordinates. "It has spent a full week by Earth standards carefully observing Krig 7B, collecting thousands of images and creating various topographies and cartographies of the planet."

He punched some commands into the screen in front of him and a hologram appeared in the center of the table. It was a three-dimensional model of a planet slowly spinning clockwise, flickering slightly. It had pristine blue oceans which covered a little more than a third or so of the planet, surrounding the world's three continents. A large land mass connected with another (in a manner not dissimilar to the Americas back on Earth) formed the first continent; the second continent was a very large island with a vague funnel-like shape in the Southern hemisphere; the third was a central landmass covering nearly half of the planet, stretching from pole to pole. Some islands here and there were evident, much like those in the Pacific and Caribbean seas, but the central super continent was visually more interesting to those attending. The land areas were color-coded to represent a particular biome. What was interesting to note was that most of the land, particularly the super continent, was full of grasslands and rolling hills. Some deserts here and there, some woodlands were represented as well and extensive mountain ranges spanned in a linear fashion in all of the continents. As to be expected tundra capped the Southern and Northern landmasses as they approached the poles.

Tobias couldn't help himself: a grin grew slowly the more he observed the model. Krig 7B had a slightly larger circumference than the Earth and the ratio of different biomes favored more grasslands than their home planet. Yet this find was beyond their original expectations when they had first set out to discover an Earth-like planet nearly 90 years back. Had it been a gas giant like Jupiter with some bodies of fresh water it would have been a success. But this... this was further than that, this was a one in a billion chance! Again the faces of the science team members grew brighter; the good news kept on coming and even some of the officers and crew's staff began to smile at their prospects.

At once the screens of each attendee lit up with numerous reports and files of the various attributes about the planetary biomes, fauna and wildlife. Once again the scientists were stunned.

"The probe has also had time to observe some of the life present on Krig 7B," the commodore went on, pressing some more commands on his interface, "and despite a possible range of 32.1 to 46.7% of truly alien life, the remaining populations have been described near-identical or exact to Earth populations. At least visually."

The central hologram flickered to show a multitude of images of a bird's eye view of the many locales on the planet: a herd of buffalos traveling a desert landscape; flocks of birds and unknown aviary creatures flying across sky over woods; cows wandering on a green pasture. One image in particular captured Tobias' attention depicted a group of multi-colored horse-like creatures galloping atop of a grassy hill. To say that it was amazing was an understatement, at least in Tobias and, as he gathered from gauging the bewildered reactions of the others, the others' view.

Angus allowed for a long pause for the scientists and officers to take in the information which the images and interfaces provided with. When eyes fell upon him once more he proceeded with his speech. "At this point we would've been awakening the colonists and any remaining staff still in cryogenic sleep."

Angus lowered his gaze to his interface, his appearance solemn and quiet. The suspension in the air was so thick in the air that everyone could taste it and they all shared the same inquiring look.

The commodore delayed his response to dial some new commands. The hologram flickered once more to show new images. They still depicted top-to-bottom view of the terrain, yet what they showed surprised everyone.

From the images it was possible to distinguish assorted structures arranged and organized into districts or in a manner which denoted that they were all interconnected by some form of road or walkway network. Each image it showed more of the same features which were impossible to occur within natural circumstances. The implication of the pictures slowly dawned on everybody's mind.

The commodore saw this shift in mood among the officers and scientists and obliged them with one bit of information: "Gentlemen, what the probe has uncovered with these photographs are established settlements, most likely founded by beings of higher intellect."

While by then Angus had stated the obvious, he stopped anyone from speaking by adding more on the plate.

"What is troubling is that the probe confirmed that these are indeed still inhabited but cannot discern _who_ or _what_ the inhabitants are."

The attending staff exchanged glances and troubled looks. This was what the officers were afraid of. While it had been a distinct possibility that humanity would encounter an extraterrestrial being with comparable intelligence and the preparations that they made with the _UNS Promise_ it was still a bombshell. For all those attending, it had only felt like hours since they had left the familiar solar space in which the Earth resided; such a discovery felt too sudden. The long-lasting question as to whether or not humans were alone in the universe had finally been answered yet from it spawned more concerning questions: were these aliens friendly or hostile? Would it possible to establish a relationship between the two species? Would humanity be able to fight the third kind if it needed to?

Tobias knew that the _UNS Promise_ had around five thousand soldiers, police and others who could be pressed into military service, more if colonists were to be conscripted. The ship also had automated factories that could be converted to manufacture military equipment and vehicles if need be. On the other hand the _UNS Promise_ had a finite amount of resources and if it didn't get more from elsewhere, a war of attrition could be disastrous. Even the pool of manpower made available from the tens of thousands of colonists wouldn't be able to maintain a slugging match for long. Tobias might not have the mind of a military tactician but it was clear that an inter-species war could spell disaster not only to the colony ship but to humanity itself.

Addens took in the dismayed reactions and mulled over his next phrases. He made a satisfied sound and went on: "There is, however, some good news in regards to this revelation," he shifted in his seat, checking his interface for the file he needed, "the probe has found no artificial satellites, detected no electronic devices, nor has it identified any engine or mechanical apparatuses. This points to the likelihood that whoever the inhabitants have not made any significant technological advancements. Simulations have shown that the scientific capabilities of the extraterrestrials are pre-black powder and pre-industrial.

"Therefore, before any action about descending upon Krig 7B is taken, I move for doing a further investigation with the ship's own relaying equipment to make a more informed decision. Any questions before we vote?"

Tobias looked around for any takers to challenge the commodore's judgment and when none were given, Tobias went on to ask his own question. "If I am not mistaken sir, for a detailed analysis with the _Promise_'s systems, we must get close enough to the planet. How close must we be?"

Angus looked to an officer whom Tobias recognized as the Communications Supervisor. The man hesitated as he checked some files on his own screen. "Around, ah, 400,000 kilometers," he said in a monotone tone, "the ship's equipment would function best at 380,000 kilometers or closer though. At around the distance between Krig 7B and its moon it would be optimal."

Waldvogel nodded, satisfied with the officer's answer. "Any further questions?" the commodore said, looking at his officers and scientists. With some shaking their heads in response he initiated the vote with his computer; within a minute the polls were in and were displayed in the central hologram:

Out of the twenty votes fourteen voted for inspecting the planet while only one was against. Five abstained.

Addens seemed pleased with the results and proceeded with the meeting. "It's decided then: we shall set course for Krig 7B's moon and after a detailed analysis we shall meet again to discuss our course of action. Any final comments or questions?"

When no-one said anything he dismissed them and they took their leave. Only Tobias stayed behind at the command station with the commodore. "Do you have something to share mister Waldvogel?" the commodore asked.

Tobias noticed that he somehow appeared tired, worlds away from the determined facade which he sported when he first walked in the meeting. It did bring a shred of worry to Tobias' mind and it made itself evident in his words.

"Yes sir, I wanted to know what your personal thoughts were on the, ah…" he paused to search for the appropriate word, "discovery of the probe? Specifically how it couldn't determine what the inhabitants were. What's your take on that?"

Angus let out a long sigh, musing on the biologist's query. "I'm not sure Tobias," he replied in an honest and casual manner, "personally I don't think it's as important as to how they will react to our arrival. If it does result in conflict I can guarantee that I'll do everything ensure that we survive."

He looked straight into Tobias' eyes; the commandant's own eyes gave off a hardened look. "But don't think that I'll send dropships full of armor, aircraft and troops at the first signs of trouble. If we can make any negotiations or compromises with ET I'll take that chance. I want to keep war as a last resort. Our mission is to colonize, not to invade. Remember that."

Tobias relaxed, feeling relieved that his superior had his priorities straight and kept a good sense of judgment. Pleased with the response, he nodded and left, leaving the commodore alone in the command center. Angus sighed once more, rubbing his temples so as to ease the tension. He pushed a button again and brought up the holographic model of Krig 7B. He took a hard long look at the semi transparent representation and found himself mesmerized by the beauty of it. Even the Earth looked as beautiful as Krig 7B, a long time ago. Inching closer to take a closer look at the hologram he asked to no-one in particular:

"What other surprises are there in store for us then?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> Well, for some reason beyond me I've decided to write a MLP: FiM fanfic. Heavily inspired by Harry Turtledove's WorldWar and Colonization series, I've decided not to make it into a crossover since it doesn't involve anything from the books, not the Race, not the World War II stuff, nothing.

Note that this is my first MLP fanfic ever, and while I have just got introduced to the cartoon I still don't know it too well. Any MLP stuff is either from what I've gathered from the few episodes which I've seen or the show's wiki. Please don't go ballistic if any of the mane cast or defined ponies are OOC, I'm still learning. :)

Happy readings!


	2. The Secret and The Accident

_"…but who is to say that there are no other worlds beyond the stars?" the wise Placolt asked to his fellow pony philosophers. "One must wonder as to what lies beyond. Could there truly be a limit to the vastness of the universe, or is it so large of size that the mind cannot even be—"_

"Twilight!" a voice rang out.

Twilight Sparkle was nose deep reading an old tome on philosophical literature when she was suddenly interrupted by the sudden call of attention. Levitating the tome away from her face she looked for the source of the disturbance. Up from the stairwell the purple dragon Spike rushed with a parchment in hand. He panted and huffed as he reached her.

"A letter… from Princess Luna," he stated as he broke the seal and unfurled it. "Well spit it out," Twilight said with a hint of irritation in her voice, "I was studying a fascinating subject and I really want to get back to it."

After doing a quick skim of the letter, he cleared his throat and began to recite the letter.

"_Dear Twilight Sparkle,_

_As of late I have been noticing shooting stars occurring in unusual frequencies and behaving oddly. Seeing as how you have a vast comprehension of astronomy, I am inclined to ask you to begin observing the moon, stars and night sky for any unusual activities beginning tonight. I will come visit you soon along with other knowledgeable astronomers to assist you for the following week._

_There is something odd in the skies and in the interests of Equestria I wish to find out what it is and its cause._

_I should arrive by the afternoon with my associates._

_My sincerest regards,_

_Princess Luna_

_PS: Keep any indication of us meeting together a secret. It is of the utmost importance._"

Spike looked up from the parchment to see a baffled look on Twilight's face. Princess Luna had only formally spoken to her once, during Nightmare Night a few months back. She had kept a very low profile ever since. Princess Celestia had told Twilight that her time on the moon had kept her from events in Equestria for those thousand years, and that she had to adjust her mannerism to modern times. Twilight even felt a twang of jealousy when Celestia noted that Luna studied _almost_ as vigorously as she did.

But then why did the princess want to meet with her? She didn't know much of astronomy, at least not much more than most ponies. Perhaps it was an excuse for a friendly meeting to get to know each other better? It could be that, but then why didn't she meet up with Twilight earlier instead of waiting weeks to do so?

"Um, Twi?"

Spike's voice broke her line of thought as she turned her attention to the baby dragon. "What's astronomy?"

Twilight blinked a few times, registering the question and gave a chuckle; _Spike can be so naïve at times… _

"It's the study of the stars, celestial bodies and space," she answered with a smile.

Spike made a small pensive pout. "And what do you mean exactly, 'space'?"

_That… isn't as easy to explain_, Twilight thought. She pawed her hoof at the wooden floor as she formulated her answer in her mind. "Well, space is ah, the _space_ between the stars and celestial bodies," she explained.

"But if it's just space then why study it?"

_Why indeed_, she thought to herself sarcastically. "It's not the same thing as the space you know Spike. It's referred to as outer space and unlike the one that is between - for example - you and me, it is incredibly cold and it has no breathable air. Nothing can live in it, and it is extremely difficult to travel through, only possible for alicorns."

The little dragon's eyes widened, filled with filly-like curiosity. "Why is it so… deadly?"

Twilight shrugged her haunches. "Space is just emptiness; there is no air in it to breath from, and there is nothing to hold heat. I don't know why it only occurs outside of our world though; it's been a mystery for centuries Spike. Nopony knows. We just accept that it is so."

Spike kept quiet, seemingly frightened. A tinge of guilt fell upon Twilight. Such young fillies and dragons were very impressionable; it was probably unfair to let him know about such things. It was definitely humbling if not scary to realize how much of the world's laws were beyond even the princesses' control.

"Don't think about it too much Spike," she reassured him, giving a warm smile, "it's nothing to worry about, at all."

While he smiled in response, Spike still seemed unsure. He walked out of the library and went downstairs without uttering a word. Twilight felt terrible about Spike, but she had other things on her mind; the meeting with the princess. In the meanwhile she decided to tidy up the room so as to make it at least somewhat presentable once Princess Luna arrived. She soon got to work. Her horn engulfed in a lavender-colored aura, Twilight mentally recited a spell and many of the books that lay about began to levitate and arrange themselves in order, neatly stacked in the appropriate bookshelves. This went on for a good half-hour when she was finished. She was mentally exhausted, but felt proud for a job well done.

Twilight granted herself the pleasure to have a nice and warm cup of tea, helping herself to a tray of crackers as well. A loud _pop_ startled her. She choked on one of her crackers and turned to see where the noise had come from.

"Good evening Twilight Sparkle," a grayish-purple alicorn with decorative hoof guards and matching tiara greeted her: it was Princess Luna.

Twilight fumbled with her tray and accidentally dropped it. She gave a quick curtsy shooting off apologies and attempting to clean up the mess on the floor. "Oh my goodness I am so sorry Princess Luna I didn't mean to do that, so, _so_ sorry-"

The princess let out a soft laugh, obviously amused by the antics of the young unicorn. She stopped Twilight by lifting the tray and grabbed her attention. "You needn't be so apologetic Twilight Sparkle," she said in a comforting tone, "I obviously frightened you. If anything _I_ should be apologizing to you."

The fearful Twilight did blink a few times to completely understand and only after a long pause did she finally relax. "Ah…" she began, unsure as how to continue, "it's… no problem, Princess?"

Luna gave a warm smile. "Please, just call me Luna. There is no need to be so formal."

Again Twilight hesitated as she took in the princess's words; while she definitely was Princess Celestia's kin, Princess Luna did seem to be more modest and humble than her older sibling. "O-okay," Twilight replied, building up the courage to then drop the title, "L-Luna."

From the princess's cheery smile, Twilight gathered that it really was fine to just call her by her name. Then she went on to ask, "So, uh, Luna. Why _are_ you here?"

Luna finally dropped her smile, a serious expression replacing it. Her attitude changed accordingly as well. "I see you understand that this isn't just a meet-up to gaze at the stars," she whispered quietly, as if she was worried that someone would eavesdrop on their conversation. "I had to lie on the letter to keep anyone at the Royal Palace from getting suspicious about my leave."

This was a surprise to Twilight; a princess actively lying? It was unthinkable knowing the princesses' history and their outlook on life. If a normal pony had seldom an excuse to lie, then a princess had no real reason to do so. "Why?" she questioned Luna, "what's really going on?"

Luna shifted herself, seemingly unnerved by the question. She looked at the floor for a few moments before answering, "I..._think_ someone or some_thing _is coming." When she noticed Twilight wearing a quizzical look she explained further.

"From… the stars."

Twilight's jaw dropped. "_What!_"

"I realize this is a lot to take in, but I think Nightmare Moon," Twilight's mouth widened even more, "left me a warning of sorts about visitors from 'beyond'. I have no idea whether it's true or not, but it's got me worried and I needed to tell somepony."

The lavender pony's collected mentality was in disarray; she and her friends had killed Nightmare Moon and essentially erased any trace left by the dark entity a year back. How could Luna even _consider_ what Nightmare Moon had to say to the princess? She was evil incarnate! Luna must've had a sixth-sense as she continued:

"I know Twilight. I couldn't believe that Nightmare Moon could have been attempting to help me either, but…" she let her head droop in shame, "… I feel that she _had_ changed. When she left me a year ago she put that warning in my mind. If you could hear it you would see why I think that Nightmare Moon might have been on something. I… I trust her."

Twilight couldn't believe what she was listening to. She averted her gaze repulsed by such stories, it didn't even matter that it was a princess telling her these things. Even while she didn't look at the princess, Twilight felt pleading eyes on her and, grudgingly turned to see her. "Why didn't you tell anypony about this before?" she demanded, "does your sister even know?"

Luna's head drooped again. She shook her head as a response. Twilight noticed that tears were welling up in the princess's eyes. She instantly felt bad for the accusing tone.

"I told you: I didn't think the message was real. Months passed when it began repeating itself. By then if I told Celestia everything she would not take it well so...I kept it a secret."

She sobbed before continuing. "I was scared," she admitted, tears flowing down her snout, "I was scared that everypony would think that I had gone insane, so I kept it and kept it, but I began to hear it more and more often and…"

Luna began to sob uncontrollably. The sight of a princess crying her heart's contents was too much for Twilight. Using her magic she used a napkin to dry the princess's face and tried to cheer up the depressed pony. "I-I'm sorry Luna, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

The princess sniffed, her eyes moist and puffy. _She looks horrible like this_, Twilight observed, once more feeling a rush of guilt swarm in her. "N-no," Luna replied, her voice wavering, "I needed that. I-it felt good to let it out. Thank you Twilight."

She began to regain her composure as her last tears were shed. "Alright," she sniffed again, "now you know why I've come to you. Like I asked you in the letter, I would prefer if nopony learns of this, at least for this first night."

Twilight cocked an eyebrow. "Wait, what do you mean 'for this first night'?"

"I hadn't lied about us observing the night skies," retorted the Equestrian royal, "I _have_ been seeing odd things during the night lately and something tells me that something will happen tonight. I want you to be with me to see it if something does happen. Only then can I tell everypony else about Nightmare Moon and what she had said."

It was only then that Twilight noticed that it was dark out. She was not pleased with how Princess Luna's request was a bolt from the blue, and she felt that it was not right for Princess Celestia to be left in the dark about the whole affair. Plus she really didn't know Luna, let alone consider her as a friend. As far as Twilight was concerned, she was essentially a stranger. Yet she couldn't help but feel for the anxious princess; something within her told that Luna was not pulling her leg and that something could happen that night. She supposed that she could spend a night with Luna.

Twilight addressed to Luna, "Very well, how about we make for the balcony? I'll get you some refreshments."

Luna's face lit up. "I would like that very much, thank you." The two ponies left the library.

* * *

><p>It had been over seven hours since Angus had held the vote. The <em>Promise<em> had made considerable progress and was less than twenty minutes away from Krig 7B's moon, the location from where he and his crew would begin to observe the planet to gain further information. He surveyed the staff at the bridge. Many of the crew sat at their allocated posts, each manning their controls and carefully inspected their screens. Officers walked to and fro supervising the other crew. The commodore had just returned from his quarters for a meal and shower and was pleased with the pace of speed. The deck had been mostly quiet, with some chatter between some of the officers and crew members and the faint humming of the dozens of computers. The calm was broken when an officer began arguing with an operator. It began quietly at first, but soon it deteriorated to the point where other crew members turned their heads to see what the commotion was. When they began to yell at each other Angus noticed it as well and decided to intervene.

His approach quickly hushed both men as they each gave a salute. "What seems to be the problem here gents?"

The operator began to speak but was interrupted by his superior officer. "Mister Matranga here is receiving faulty readings and is refusing to see what is causing the erroneous results that are shown," he pointed at the interface, "in the system sir."

Matranga was visibly frustrated and his tone only made his aggravation more evident: "But as I said to the supervisor sir, I've run various tests and scans to confirm that the readings weren't just a glitch in the system. I did the calculations myself, the readings are correct."

Just as the officer was about to tell off the operator Angus asked the operator, "Why are we examining Krig 7B? The ship's relays are bound to make invalid readings."

The officer gave off a cough and replied, "Actually sir it's not the planet that we're getting results from, but from its moon."

Angus screwed his face in surprise. "The moon?" he asked the officer, both of them nodded. "Who made the decision to study Krig 7B's moon?"

This time Matranga spoke for the officer. "The ship sir: it's an automatic procedure which goes into effect when it comes into close contact with planetary or other celestial bodies. It's not as detailed as the operation which we're still preparing for, but according to the results, the moon has a breathable atmosphere _and_ has a temperature considerably higher than expected."

The commodore scooted towards the interface to peek at the computer's own readings. As Matranga had said, the interface indicated that Krig 7B's moon had an atmospheric composition similar to the Earth's own except for any water vapor. The mean surface temperature reported as being as high as 286.15° Kelvin: cooler than on Earth yet livable by human standards. It was indeed a very unexpected find.

"That is strange," Angus admitted, scratching his head in confusion.

"As _I_ said sir!" the officer piped up, "Krig 7B's lunar surface's chemical composition is comparable to that of our moon. It is impossible for it to have an atmosphere, let alone a surface temperature higher than below freezing! The system must be suffering from some form of technical malfunction or software glitch."

The commodore mulled over the officer's words, and having thought it over, turned to the man. "Are these readings relevant perchance?"

If the supervising officer had a retort already prepared, his stunned expression didn't show it. "B-but sir! If there really is something skewing the results then it could affect the check that we're going to begin shortly."

"Yet this crewman has assured you of no such thing," Angus countered, indicating at the man still in his seat, "as far as we know there could be something which is in fact granting the moon an atmosphere and temperature. It is something to check up on again later when we have the time, but as of now it is irrelevant. If you still think that the results are incorrect then get another engineer to give you a second opinion."

With no other way to respond to his commander the officer simply saluted him, giving him a 'yessir' and left quickly. Matranga was astounded.

"Thank you sir," the man saluted, smiling at how Angus had stuck with his story, "I d-don't know ho-"

Angus lifted a hand to interrupt the operator. "There's no need to say anything Mister Matranga; as you were."

Matranga saluted him once more and returned to analyzing his interface. While Addens made his way back to his own seat, he had to acknowledge that the readings on Krig 7B's moon could have potentially been incorrect. He could not let it distract him or the crew for the upcoming examination of Krig 7B however. If there indeed was some form of electronic or equipment malfunction it could be solved in due time. Angus was in no rush to determine what the natives were. They had no method of reaching the ship anyways. The mission would not be jeopardized.

Not yet anyways.

* * *

><p>Luna finished eating the last crumbs of apple pie that Twilight had served her and, momentarily forgetting formal etiquette, licked her lips clean. It had been a long time since she has had such a good dinner. While neither as lavish nor as sophisticated as the creations of her personal cook, it was exquisitely delicious. "My compliments to the chef," she told Twilight.<p>

She smiled in response. "I'll be sure to give them to her personally," she chuckled while she cleared the dining table. "You ready to go out then princess?" With a nod Luna followed Twilight out to the balcony.

The night sky was as always a marvelous spectacle of light and darkness: all of the stars shone brightly along with the stark white moon and, with less light from the land, other stars which normally were invisible twinkled as well. Luna momentarily forgot the gravity of the moment and began to enjoy the familiar splendor. As her body and mind unwound themselves to bask in the light she noticed that even Twilight was mesmerized by it as her glittering eyes denoted. She couldn't stifle a giggle, snapping Twilight out of her trance.

"What are you laughing about, your highness?"

Luna beamed fondly: "It has been eons since anyone but me has truly appreciated the night sky," she answered honestly, "it is really heart-warming to see that I'm not the only one to marvel at the stars."

Twilight turned skywards again. "Yeah," she began, nodding slightly, "I can see why it can be so fascinating. It's just too bad that there aren't more ponies who look at the stars and moon."

Suddenly Luna began to feel a touch of regret after hearing the last phrase. It brought back the horrible memory of when her envy had gotten the best of her and when she was frustrated with Equestria and…

She swept away any such thoughts from her mind and kept herself distracted observing the sky along with Twilight. That was when she heard _her_ again, only this time what she said was different:

_Beware my little Luna! They are upon you. Look to the stars, the moon shall reveal all!_

Luna felt pale: this was most frightened Nightmare Moon had ever sounded, even more so than when she had been expelled from Luna's body and mind. Slowly but surely, Luna heeded the warning and craned her head to look at the moon. Only then did she realize that next to the moon there was one star too many. It didn't even twinkle like a proper star; it oscillated more than anything else. The more she stared at it the brighter it seemed to get.

To Luna's horrifying realization the light was growing larger and drawing closer.

* * *

><p>The <em>UNS Promise<em> began entering in the orbit of Krig 7B's moon. It slowed to a crawl and proceeded to align itself with the moon so as to get the best view of the planet. It had all gone according to plan: within minutes the ship's arrays would begin their examination of Krig 7B and if all went well it would take no more than three hours to finish the procedure.

That's when it all went wrong.

Without explanation or cause, multiple large explosions on the ship's starboard violently rocked and jerked the ship. The shock of the blasts made the _Promise_ veer towards the port side, away from the moon. Deathly quiet, the huge fireballs kept burning for a near ten seconds before the oxygen was all burnt. Any further potential fuel had been stopped by the ship's fail-safe mechanisms which had sealed off the newly formed cavities on the _Promise_'s starboard.

But the damage had been done and the ship had suffered a devastating blow: all of the contents which were in the chambers that had been pierced by the explosive force had been sucked out of the hull. Machinery, vehicles and debris floated outside the ship, along with many bodies of the colonists who were still in cold sleep. None of them survived.

The _UNS Promise_ was now slowly swerving out of the moon's orbit.

* * *

><p>Twilight Sparkle noticed that one of the stars by the moon began to emit reddish lights with a hint of orange. She didn't know too much about stars but she suspected that such a display wasn't normal for a one.<p>

"Hey Luna, do you see that star next to the moon?" she asked, her eyes still fixed on the star.

Luna didn't answer. Curious, she turned to the princess and saw that she too was fixated at the star, but instead of wearing a quizzical expression she looked outright terrified.

"…Luna?" Still no response.

Now frightened herself, she looked back at the star and was surprised to see that the orange-red lights were outshining the star itself. As they had suddenly appeared they disappeared from view and only the original white star remained. _Whatever happened to the star must've ended_, Twilight told herself. Then she saw that the star seemed to be creeping away from the moon.

Frozen in disbelief, she now understood that it couldn't possibly have been a star. Slowly, she turned to Luna once more. "Luna? What _is_ that light?"

The princess tore her horror-struck gaze from the light to look directly into Twilight's eyes. For once Luna was at a loss for words:

"I…I-I have no idea."

* * *

><p>Angus Addens had been knocked off of his seat and found himself grunting in pain from the impact with the floor. Within a split second the startled cries of crew members and ship alarms resounded within the enclosed space of the bridge, while red lights took the place of the standard lighting. Shocked by the abrupt shake, Angus felt as if the ship's starboard had been struck by colossal meteor. He scrambled to his feet and began to make sense of what had just occurred.<p>

"Status report!" he yelled over the noise. An operator gave a weak response: "Massive damage to hull integrity and structure, sir! Multiple compartments are reporting huge drops in air pressure and oxygen levels!"

"Seal them off!" the commodore ordered as he opened his own interface. The operator struggled to remain firmly planted in his seat, but did as commanded. "Sealed sir!"

"Alright," Angus exclaimed. He skimmed through the names of the affected chambers and immediately grasped that it had mostly been the stasis chambers and internal systems of the ship that had been damaged. Angus feared the worse and demanded his crew, "What's our current course?"

"The _Promise _is swerving towards Krig 7B!"

"Correct it then!" he snapped at the helmsman, "before we crash into the damn planet!"

The helmsman required a great effort on his part to stabilize the ship's unnatural flight pattern but had eventually regained control of the ship.

The alarms silenced themselves and the red warning lights were switched off: the crisis was over. Angus slumped in his chair, relieved that the ship was safe. Now finally the crew began to wonder what had transpired.

"What the fuck just hit us?"

"Was it a meteor?"

"No, scanners would've picked it up before we got hit!"

"Then what the hell was it?"

It was impossible that it had been a solid object large enough to send the _Promise _spiraling out of course; as one of the crew said it would have been detected long before the impact. A terrible failure of the ship's systems was also another likely possibility.

But what did it matter? How it had happened was irrelevant, he needed to gauge the damage. He immediately knew that this was not just an unfortunate accident;

This was a _disaster_.


	3. The Descent and First Flight

"The system's records tally a grand total of 3017 deaths, 32 of which were crew members 124 have been injured and are being attended to. Those colonists in suspension never even felt it."

The command station's mood was anything but cheery; an emergency meeting between the officer staff and science team was hurriedly called once the _Promise_ was out of any further danger. Some of those attending sported wounds, grim reminders of the catastrophic event. Tobias himself had broken his nose when he toppled over and hit on a hard desk. Even the commodore had a noticeably large dark blotch indicating a bad bruise on his left cheek, compounding his disconcerted appearance. "Do we have any inkling as to what exactly happened?" he asked the crew's lead engineer.

The response was not reassuring: "We believe that a fault in the gas conducts caused the blasts. Due to a significant weakness in the ship's starboard structure the explosions caused more damage than normal, resulting in the catastrophic failure which we've experienced Commodore. We still don't know why it failed only now when all of the requisites were present for at least twenty years."

"What systems have been affected?" another officer queried.

"Fortunately life support is intact and so are the main power generators. Both the internal and external scanners have been rendered inoperable, same with the communication relays. Some of the stasis chambers and vehicle bays have been destroyed, damaging others. Thankfully most are unaffected. The engines did give way temporarily but that issue has resolved itself."

Addens rested his chin on his hand in a pensive posture, tapping his fingers in anticipation for the engineer to finish his report. "Can we repair the damage?"he posed to the engineer when he finished, hoping to hear the answer he wanted. By the looks of the others everyone was hoping for the same.

The engineer scratched his sideburns, unsure as what to say. "Well, yes Commodore; the lost hardware can be fabricated by the ship's automated factories (which were left untouched) and so can the hull pieces. But mending the damage will take time. At best we're looking at five to ten months, and that's _only_ if we wake the colonists suited to help in the task."

"So you're saying that the ship has no way to send a distress call and that it is going to be blind for months?" Addens asked, his tone grave.

The engineer dropped his gaze. "Yessir," he responded quietly, disheartened of being the messenger of such bad news.

Murmurs and hurried whispers made their way in the meeting between the attending members. Tobias heard snippets of worried talk from the officer staff, science team and crew. The situation was very grim. These quiet conversations went on for a minute before Angus made himself heard.

"Gentlemen. We are in no condition to make the scheduled scan of Krig 7B from afar. So now we're left with two choices: take no further action until the repairs are complete or send a reconnaissance team down to Krig 7B to set up a landing zone and base of operations. The team would be composed of science team members and a company of infantry with no vehicles _whatsoever_: the more discreet we make such an operation, the better.

"Any questions before I initiate the vote?"

The members of the meeting held their peace so Addens went on and began the poll. After a one-minute round of voting the results were displayed by the central hologram: eleven had voted for sending a team down to Krig 7B while eight had decided to stay put until the ship was functional. Only two abstained.

Tobias and some of the other scientists were displeased with the results. Waldvogel had voted against sending a survey team in fear of a possible pathogen or some form of toxic agent. Without a scan from afar the only way to check for such threats was for the team to be exposed while they set up their camp of operations. It was clear that the others from the science team had similar, if not the same, concerns.

"Of course, we will make sure that all of the members will be safe from any possible risks," the commodore spoke, as if he had tasted the scientists' concerns, "all personnel will be given the best protective gear which we own: CBRN suits to be issued to military personnel and Level A Hazmat suits to non-military staff. The suits should provide the adequate protection for each person while on Krig 7B during the experiments."

Part of Tobias' mind relaxed. That was one possible threat which was accounted for and would've been dealt with accordingly. Other scientists appeared equally relieved. The meeting adjourned soon afterwards and the various officers and staff dispersed into the hallway outside of the command center. Tobias caught up with the lead engineer and called him over. "Something on your mind Tobias?"

When most of the others had left, he spoke to the engineer.

"Damon," Tobias began, using the man's first name, "is it really true that it was the gas conducts that caused the explosions?"

The engineer shifted uncomfortably. "I promise you, if it was _not_ the gas I will keep it a secret."

Damon kept quiet, unsure as to what to say. "Please," the elderly Tobias pleaded, "you know that you can trust me."

Damon looked behind him to see if there was anyone who could've heard them discussing. Once he confirmed that there was no-one besides the two in the hallway he turned to the biologist.

He began with a sigh, "To be frank Tobias? Me and the other engineers have no fucking clue as to what caused the blasts. The gas thing was the only scenario that could have realistically led to an explosion, but when we checked the conducts we found that they were functioning as expected when the explosions went off: No leaks, no rusty vents, nothing. Even the hull structure didn't seem to have any flaws before the blast."

"But then what caused the blasts?" Tobias insisted, his curiosity urging him to press for more.

Damon lit a cigarette before answering. "I already told you Tobi," he said with a puff of fine water vapor, frustration rising in his voice, "_I. Don't. Know._ For all I know it could've been the goddamn aliens who decided to blow up big chunks off of our ship for no good reason other than for shits and giggles." He left Tobias, afraid to pursue the matter any further.

_But how could they have done it?_ Waldvogel wondered, alone in the hallway, _and_ _why?_

* * *

><p>Lashonda Angelus let out a big yawn. She had been awakened from cold sleep an hour before and still felt groggy from the common symptoms associated with awaking from cryogenic sleep. The fact that she was waiting for her shuttlecraft to be fully loaded didn't help her sluggish state. She had done all of the pre-flight checks and had nothing else to do but to sit and wait. In fact, Lashonda almost regretted leaving her stasis chamber: in one second she fell in a deep sleep, and woke up in the next to find that a third of the ship had been blown to bits along with hundreds of colonists. That was reason enough to keep sleeping, but now with rumors going around within the crew about aliens Lashonda would have gladly stayed in cold sleep for eternity instead of having to deal with goddamn aliens.<p>

Her headset's speakers crackled with life when the flight control technician contacted her. "Firefly 12 Firefly 12, this is Control. Your cargo's now onboard and I've uploaded your flight coordinates. Please acknowledge, over."

Lashonda smacked her lips, temporarily uninterested in what the technician had to say. _What I'd do for a good ol' cup 'a Joe,_ she thought to herself. She made a mental note to get some after her return flight. She brought up her cockpit's HUD and checked the trajectory vectors; everything seemed good. "That's a solid copy Control, requesting clearance for takeoff, over."

"Roger Firefly 12, you are now clear for takeoff. Have fun down at planet-side. Out."

Shaking off the suspicion that the technician was perhaps making fun of her, she switched to the cabin's radio channel to address the passengers. "Welcome aboard Angelus Airways," she joked, keeping a straight tone, "we're about to take off. Please remember to always keep yer seatbelt fastened for the duration of the flight. If you get an instance of motion sickness and feel the need to release yer lunch, please do so in the assigned waste bags, I don't want to have to clean up my ship."

Lashonda heard some laughter from her chatter and with a smile finally began the takeoff procedures. With careful use of the dropship's maneuvering thrusters she eased herself out of the _Promise_'s outer hull. She kept a close eye on her flight and instruments panel. Her _Pegasus_ class shuttle, like the ship which she had just left, had traveled for nearly 90 years. Of course the revived engineers have revised the shuttlecraft again and again: that's what protocol required them to do anyways. But Lashonda was no more inclined than anyone else to leave anything to chance.

All proceeded as expected when she finally saw Krig 7B across her cockpit's viewing screen. The first thing that popped in her mind was the ancient Blue Marble pictures, images which she must've seen countless of times in holobooks and in other media. The blue oceans were not as planet wide as the Blue Marble photos showed, but the land seemed to be far greener and there was considerably less cloud cover. If anything, Krig 7B looked more pristine than the Earth. _Not a bad place to visit_, Lashonda thought jokingly to herself,_ but I wouldn't live there with all of them alien neighbors. _If any aliens decided to knock her off from the skies, she hoped that the dropship's automated dual-link chain cannons would protect it: they weren't much, but hopefully they would at the very least scare them off.

Moments slipped past. Lashonda spent them aligning the dropship with fussy precision. When the job was done, she waited till it was time to leave orbit. Her hand hovered over the manual override control, in case the onboard automatic pilot didn't begin the burn at the time. It was very unlikely, but both training and instincts held. _Never take anything for granted._

Deceleration slammed her back into her padded seat. It seemed to hit harder than she remembered, though all of the instruments showed the burn to be completely normal. As the automatic pilot had begun the burn in the proper instant, so the machine shut it down when it needed to. The shuttlecraft's flight vector was flawlessly followed through by the automatic pilot, and Lashonda was soon in the lower atmosphere of Krig 7B, dropping down to the speed of sound. Even at this altitude she could see that she was speeding above rolling hills, grasslands, and then forests.

She began to worry: despite having followed the flight vector plan with unwavering care, she feared that the dropship would end up being on top of a forest with no clearing for her to land in. As she slowed, Lashonda was relieved to see that craft was approaching a large enough area of flatland to land on. Taking over from the automatic pilot she leveled the dropship so it could land with the jets. She eyed the instruments, once more ready to use the manual override if the shuttlecraft's landing legs did not extend or if the rockets failed to ignite at the proper moment. No such emergency developed. Again, Lashonda had not expected for one to happen. But preparedness was never wasted.

Flames burned the grass of the landing area, scattering any wildlife that just so happened to be there, and then winked out as the automatic pilot cut off the rocket motor. "Welcome to Krig 7B," she announced to the passengers as she opened the craft's cargo bay ramps. "Try not to get yourself killed out there while you play."

Ignoring the chatter she looked out of her cockpit and saw that flight engineers back on the _Promise _that the landing zone they had decided to use was in the middle of a wetland forest. Lashonda was surprised that the craft wasn't sinking in a water hole, but was thankful that it was so. The forest itself was nothing that she had seen, so much greenery with the sun just peeking atop of it; she had never seen so much greenery in her life. Yet it all eerily felt familiar for some reason unbeknownst to her.

From her chatter she heard a startled cry from one of them men.

"Oh shit!"

The radio channel soon filled with hysterical laughter. What just happened?

"What's so darn funny?" she asked. She couldn't see the ramps from her position.

"One of the soldiers just made first contact with Krig 7B; literally!" someone explained, "he tripped and fell over face first!"

"This'll be one for the history books!" another exclaimed, putting on a mock tone for his next bit, "'_Oh shit!_' fine words from the first man on the alien planet of Krig 7B."

The others roared with laughter as they descended the ramps with their equipment. Even Lashonda couldn't help it; she guffawed in unison with the others. It was too bad that she didn't see it. _Ah well_, she passively sighed, _yet another great moment of life lost to history._

Maybe this mission on the planet wouldn't have gone bad after all.

* * *

><p>Deep in the morning meditation, Zecora was perfectly balanced with her head holding the rest of her body in the air on a bamboo pole. The inhabitants of Equestria had found her pastime (and essentially everything else about her) strange and unusual but thought nothing ill about it after they got to know her properly. What they didn't realize about her meditations was that they were deeply ingrained in the zebra's lifestyle and her culture; everyone back home did it and they were better zebras because of that. What was truly surprising to the foreigner was how the arts of meditation around these parts were widely unheard of. None of the ponies seemed to be able to reach a calm state of mind as Zecora could when after one session of deep thought.<p>

Yet during that morning a noise unlike anything that she has ever heard before tore her from that state of mind and, from the shock, she collapsed onto the ground. She winced slightly in pain and shot off a curse in her native tongue. Zecora got herself back on her hooves as the noise which had so suddenly interrupted her morning meditation it diminished itself in intensity though still apparent. If her ears didn't lie to her, whatever was making the sound was close to her hut. In a fast paced trot she left her hut and headed deep into the Everfree forest in roughly the same direction of the source, curiosity driving her actions. While trotting she was surprised that different animals like the birds and rabbits, panicked, got as far away as possible from whatever was beyond the trees. She got past the trees and came into a clearing.

That's when she saw it:

It was incredibly large and stood impossibly still. It had a muted coating of a dark and metallic blue-green and had a rounded box-like body and its underbelly was cloud-like white. What looked like a tail - which appeared ridiculously small - seemed to have been stuck on the back lazily by somepony. A cutie mark of sorts on the side of the body depicted a white five-pointed star on a blue circle with a red outline with white symbols of which Zecora couldn't recognize. It had no visible head or eyes, only what seemed to be the neck stump. Underneath the 'neck' was a very strange set of appendages which looked like two tubular structures which were connected to each other. Smoke seeped out of protrusions on the back much in the same manner as a dragon snout after it had used its fiery breath; the charred earth underneath it seemed to indicate that it had just done something similar. The three legs seemed like twigs that could somehow support the whole weight of the being. No, this was no living creature Zecora realized: this was a machine.

The design was unlike anything that she had seen from what the machines that the ponies of Equestria constructed and used: pony design had a fanciful flair about it with bright colors and rounded angles. In contrast, this contraption's angles were far sharper and the whole look of it was just downright depressing to Zecora. It was a completely alien machine.

The noise which had led her to this monstrous machine had finally died out. In its stead a mechanical hiss blew steam from the underbelly, revealing openings that were not there before: someone was coming out metallic beast. Zecora stood still in her hiding spot, waiting to see who could possibly have been piloting such a thing. A figure appeared at the openings. It stood on its _hind legs_.

Granted, this wasn't the first time that she has seen an animal walk on its hind legs, but the figure stood incredibly erect, even more so than dragons. It also had similar fore limbs - arms and hands, she recalled - but it didn't share the claws which were typical of dragons. No fur, hair or scales were visible: the creature wore some kind of clothing which covered its entire body, blending it with the forest background. On what Zecora assumed was the head, the creature wore a sort of black mask: for eyes there were black-tinted lenses and the mask jutted at the left side and chin. If Zecora's masks unnerved her friends from Ponyville, this mask would send them galloping in utter fear. The creature carried a metallic stick-like tool by its arms, its use as mysterious as the being that carried it.

It seemed hesitant to continue out of the machine, clearly frightened to leave the protective shell of the contraption from which he had appeared. It looked back behind its haunches (or its equivalent) for one more time then turned back to the outside. It raised its leg and took the first step out of the machine, only to fall over and crash into the ground, making a startled noise. Zecora didn't know why, but she felt as if the creature had just disappointed someone or something. More figures began emerging from the belly of machine, some who looked identical to the first while others were strikingly different.

They had the same body proportions but the clothing was some kind of reflective bright blue fabric, worlds away from the forest colors of the others. Instead of wearing a mask the head seemed to have been an extension of the neck, hidden within the fabric and a dark lens. In contrast to the other beings, these seemed less aggressive, probably due to their coloration and that they didn't carry the same stick-like tool like the others. They pushed and pulled strange boxes along with them.

A series of guttural bark-like laughter filled the air and for a while she thought that it had been ponies laughing. Only after a moment did Zecora realize that it was the creatures themselves who were laughing at the one who tripped. The noise was muffled from the masks and the clothing, but laughter was universal; they were definitely amused by their less fortunate kin who was still on the ground. Some spoke in a language completely foreign to her, it sounded like a combination of paste-like barks and hisses.

More beings similarly clad and carrying a variety of strange tools and machines left the bigger machine. Eventually she counted as many as sixty and the number grew still. Judging by the size of the machine there could've been well over a hundred still inside.

The masked beings, the variety with metal sticks in hand, began to spread out from the group. They seemed to be forming a perimeter around the machine, their poses showing an aggressive behavior. It dawned on Zecora that those metal sticks were an unknown type of weapon, literally worlds apart from the ones she was more familiar with. And those clad with the colors of the forest were ensuring that the area was devoid of any possible intruders like her.

Deciding to take no further risks she slinked away from the clearing and stopped to see if they would enter into the tree line. None of them seemed willing to venture out of the safety of the clearing but still kept watch for anything from the forest.

Zecora had seen enough. She carefully made her way out and returned to her hut. She needed to warn the others back at Ponyville. Saddling herself some supplies for the journey through Everfree forest, she took off, sealing her hut on her way out.

She trotted at a fast pace, still thinking about how the locals would react to her tale. Hopefully they would heed her more than the last time…

* * *

><p>Dozing above on a cloud, Rainbow Dash took one of her famous naps after a long period of exercise and of clearing the skies of clouds. If there was anything that she truly enjoyed besides going fast and winning, this was it. It was late morning, but for the most part Ponyville was still dormant. Even Rainbow Dash, for all of her boisterous antics and behavior, still enjoyed the occasional quiet moment to wind down for her next spurt of energy. The day promised to be an exciting one, but for now Dash just wanted to get a little shuteye.<p>

Something decided to put a damper on Dash's plan however. Quiet at first, an ongoing shriek grew rapidly louder and awoke her from her nap. Irritated that she had been rudely awoken, she searched the skies for the source of the now near-deafening noise. A huge body swept by her, probably no more than twenty hooves above her head. The distortion of air shook Dash off of her cloud, suddenly inside the trail of clouds left by the wake of whatever had passed by. She stabilized herself and stared in shock the now distant...

What was it anyways? It had dark blue-green color, and the shape vaguely reminded Dash of a dragonfly, but it was far more nose and body heavy and had a tiny tail when compared with the rest of the body. What struck her most about it were the two fiery azure-like circles by either side on the backside by the tail shining intensely. They made it seem as if the thing stared back with an angry look about it. Had it been anypony else they would've turned tail and galloped away in fear with such an unnerving stare.

Dash, on the other hand, took it as a challenge. _Finally_, she thought cheekily, _something _almost_ as fast as me_.

It already had a huge head start but she wasn't discouraged, after all, they didn't call her Dash for nothing. A flap of the wings and she was off at lightning speed. She chased the strange creature, her wings working furiously to keep her speed maintained, fueled by each breath of air that she took. Wind rushed past her muzzle and mane making it flutter wildly along with her tail, a multi-colored trail left behind in her wake. The only thing that Dash felt was the adrenaline rushing throughout her body and the need to win this dangerous game of aerial tag. While she wasn't going as fast as her personal best it still was so fast as to push her body to the limit; nevertheless, she was catching up with it, slowly but surely.

They both flew for miles, racing through the clouds and sky, neither one showing any sign of slowing down. Dash crept closer and closer to the dragonfly-like creature when it suddenly dived upwards. She followed suit only to stop almost immediately: it had gotten beastly cold, her lungs were not receiving enough air and her wings refused to lift her up any further; it was just too high for her to fly. To her disbelief she saw the creature continuing its upward journey seemingly unaffected by the extreme conditions of high altitude, its eye-like lights mocking her. That thing had just done something that was considered to be realistically impossible, but most importantly, it had _beaten Rainbow Dash_.

Feeling incredibly humbled and demoralized, she dropped back down to earth. Dash didn't know what to make of that flying creature except for how it had outdone her in an aerial display of flight prowess. _At least nopony saw that_, she told herself glumly;_ otherwise I would've looked 60…50…45…44.8% __less cooler._ She supposed that she should tell someone about that creature. Right now though, she wanted to crawl back to bed.

She wanted to make herself as small as possible and cry the day away.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: <strong>Sorry for the delay for this chapter, but I lost a lot of this chapter TWICE and I was going through some personal issues. And hey, look: somepony has seen a human for the first time! What will happen I wonder. Don't feel too bad for Rainbow Dash, she'll get her shining moment in an upcoming chapter. Thanks for the review TheArchive! As Angus said, war is the ultimate last option for me. It hasn't come to that point, but there is a chance (it'll take a while for it to happen anyways). Keep on sending those reviews!


	4. Smuggled Goods and Worries

The alien sun stood high in the sky, bright and strong. Guy Vara assumed that it must have been around midday local time. His biological clock must've been slow, seeing as he felt like he had awoken not too long; cold sleep did have a tendency of doing that.

Guy had been on Krig 7B for a good three hours helping setting up camp _Challenger_ in the wetland. By then three main structures had been set up, each with their own decontamination chambers. Had this been a few centuries back such a feat would have been impossible to be done in such a short time and with so few people. A barracks, science lab and main mess hall had been the first erected. Living quarters would be up later during the day and hopefully, by the following 24 hours, the first colonial housing. It was not the intention of the top brass to make this the first colonial town, but they needed to get the specialized colonists on the ground to help establish some of the more essential structures: a proper landing zone for future landings, a communication station to remain in constant contact with the colony ship, and above all, to clear the outlying woods to allow for expansion.

It saddened Guy that among the first thing that they would do was cut down trees. But he realized that it was a necessary sacrifice.

As of the last few minutes he had been patrolling the perimeter of the camp with two other infantry. There had been nothing to indicate that the local wildlife was hostile to the human incursion, but the scientists at _Challenger_ had insisted on no alien life to enter the camp. Why exactly he didn't know. Those eggheads in their less-than discreet blue hazmat suits had been cooked up in the lab testing everything: the soil, the air, some of the plants... the list was ridiculously long.

In the woods beyond Guy heard the fluttering of startled birds. Or at least something that sounded like birds; the gas mask he wore was not exactly conducive to his hearing ability and it did not help him see any better. His field of view was very limited (he couldn't even see his own nose for Christ's sake!) and the tinted lenses darkened what he could see. Of all of the military equipment which was standard of the regular marine, he disliked the CBRN suit the most, regardless of the protections it provided him with. Not that there was much to need protection for anyways! No radiation had been detected and the chemicals found in the air and terrain were all innocuous. While everyone still waited on the results on the biohazard tests, Guy was hard-pressed in believing that there was anything that could've constituted as biohazard. He'd be willing to take off the damn mask if it weren't for the strict command ordering the exact opposite. _Just one of the many perks of life in the Marine Corps..._

"Goddamn," the soldier besides him exclaimed with his voice muffled by the air filters of his mask, turning with his rifle drawn towards the bird's direction, "it feels like I'm in one of them ol' documentaries about swamps of the Mississippi, with alligators ready tah jump me."

He was Clinton Reifstack, a good friend of Guy. He was of Texan origin as his drawl proved. 32 years-old, he was just three years older than Guy. He always had a tired look on his face; the bags underneath his eyes and the crows feet earned him the nickname of 'Old Sleepy' amongst his friends, which he detested with so much passion that the alias was mostly used when he was not around to hear it. He kept his dirty blond hair short but refused to shave off his mustache. He was quite a sight to behold; it was just too bad that the mask made everything about him but the voice anonymous.

"Look out Clint," the other infantryman said, mockery filling his tone, "those alien lizards are gonna get ya if you don't watch out!"

This was Neil Burbidge, but everyone in the company called him Joker for an obvious reason. Unlike Clinton, Neil took his namesake with pride and lived up to it continually, either by spouting jokes and puns or by pulling pranks on various members of the company. It had gotten him into trouble with the captain more than once, but even the captain couldn't bring himself to punish Neil too severely, limiting himself with extra chores or exercises. Neil was always good humored, to the point where he wore a smile nearly at all times. His cheery smiles went well with that smallish head of his. He had puffy cheeks which reminded Guy of a young child, and his dimples made him appear all the more younger. He sported jet black hair combed back and kept it slick. Neil was from the subterranean city of Goodhope in what used to be Kansas, and it was plausible that growing up underground with nothing to entertain him he had developed that characteristic prankster personality of his.

Both he and Guy chuckled as Clinton reacted as if he had just been affronted. "Y'all like that wouldn't ya?" he said in a smug tone, "gettin' rid of me ain't gonna be that easy, Ah'm too tough fer them aliens."

"Too tough to be chewed properly," Neil whispered to Guy, both of whom stifled a snort.

"What did ya say Joker?"

Neil answered back with a cheeky smirk, "Nothin' that concerns you, Old Sleepy."

Clinton snapped. In a split second he did a U-turn and sucker punched Neil in the face, sending the smaller man on the ground. Out of reflex from hearing Neil cry out in pain, Guy grabbed Clinton and kept him from doing any further harm. "Lemme go Guy!" he huffed, "I'm not gonna hit him anymore!"

"Not taking that chance pal." Clinton had a bit of a nasty reputation of never having and finishing a dispute with just a single punch. Guy knew that he was more than likely not finished with Neil.

"Oh no," Neil uttered with a startle, his voice wavering, "oh no, _oh no, Clinton what did you do?_"

Guy and Clinton looked at their downed comrade and saw that he was covering his face: Clinton's punch had somehow made Neil's mask slide off and now hung loose from his face, revealing his terrified expression. _He was exposed_.

"Ah fuck!" Guy exclaimed. He let go of the Texan and squatted down by Neil to survey the damage. Neil fumbled with his gas mask, too startled and scared to get it back on properly; he was shooting off worried cries and began to hyperventilate. What was happening to him?

Clinton stood above them, aghast at what he had done. "Ah-I..." he was at a loss for words.

"Calm down Joker," Guy attempted to say, despite Neil's anxious ramblings, "just calm down and let me help you get your mask on." With some effort he had managed to strap it back on Neil's face, even with Neil squirming and flailing about. He began to lift him up when he heard Clinton stutter. "Ah d-didn't mean to…"

Guy, infuriated at the Texan's inaction, yelled at him. "Don't just stand there fucking about! Grab his rifle and help me get him to a doctor!"

Clinton paused; he was still shocked at the consequence of his actions, but soon snapped out the trance and after grabbing the dropped weapon he lifted Neil to his feet with Guy's help. They passed by other patrolling marines, gaining a mix of confused, curious and worried stares from them. They brought the panicking soldier quickly to the lab, and after going through the decontamination chamber they burst into the rudimentary medical bay. A lone doctor stood inside and was startled by their dramatic entrance.

Seeing that Neil was being supported by the other two soldiers the doctor asked them, "What happened to him?"

They set him on the examination table before Guy replied. "His mask got loose."

Both Clinton and he stripped Neil's mask off and let the doctor to examine him. Neil's face was both sweating and trembling, his eyes were bloodshot from crying and his breathing was still rapid and shallow. Opening the CBRN suit to reveal Neil's chest the doctor began to ask him a series of questions:

"Do you feel faint or nauseous?"

"Ah-a bit…" Neil said half-heartedly.

"Any chest pain?"

"It-it feels uncomfortable," he responded with a sniffle.

The doctor strapped a device on Neil's chest and began to monitor his heart rate. "He's got an elevated heart beat," he stated to nobody in particular.

Neil crying suddenly intensified. "I am _dying!_" he cried out in fear, sobbing heavily all the while.

"When did he lose the mask?" the doctor asked Vara.

"About ten minutes back," he answered, terrified by the cries of his friend on the table, "but it was off for just a few seconds!"

"_How_ did he lose it?"

"Ah punched it off accidentally," Clinton replied for Guy. "What's wrong with him?"

The doctor didn't oblige him with an answer and instead went to a medical cabinet. He picked out a syringe and after removing the seal he injected the fluid into Neil. He soon began to relax. The two soldiers were confused as to what the doctor had done, but they were extremely thankful.

"I'll keep him in under observation for a few hours, but I believe that your friend has suffered a panic attack."

The two soldiers' reaction was a mix of surprise and of immense relief. It seemed as if it had been something much worse.

"How can you be sure doc?" Guy asked the medical professional, "I mean, it could still be something biological from out there."

He gave a smug before responding. "We've got word back from the lab about the biohazard tests: all negative. I have to admit that I was worried that the results were wrong when I saw him, but the symptoms which your friend displayed were telltale sign of a panic attack.

"Clearly, when you," he pointed to Clinton, "punched him his body began the flight-or-flight reaction which put his mind in a vulnerable state. When he realized that he could've breathed his last, he went into shock, causing the panic attack."

Clinton walked over to Neil, who had dozed off, shaking his head in disbelief. "Dammit Joker," he muttered, "don't scare yer friends like that."

Guy had half-a-mind to tell Clinton off but decided that they all have had enough excitement for one day and relished in the fact that the company's prankster was going to live.

* * *

><p>Spike awoke with a startle from a sudden crash. The baby dragon, with the skills conditioned by years of being Twilight's personal assistant, sprang out of his bed and made for the source of the noise which was... upstairs! He flew up the steps and came barreling into the library and was surprised to see two ponies: the first was the all-familiar Twilight, the second was...<p>

He widened his eyes in amazement and quickly bowed. "Princess Luna!" he exclaimed, "I didn't realize you were here."

The two ponies seemed to have been surprised by the dragon's sudden entrance; tomes of all shapes and sizes were laid scattered about the library floor (_whatta mess!_ Spike thought to himself), indicative that the two of them had been studying hard.

"Spike?" Twilight asked with a yawn, "what are you doin' up at this hour?"

_They stayed up the whole night long? _"Uh... Twi? It's already daytime." He opened the curtains to let the sun's rays bask the dark room. The two ponies winced at the abrupt burst of light. "In fact," the dragon added after looking at wall clock, "It's nearly midday."

It was only then that he saw how exhausted the two ponies were: their eyes were reddened with the lack of sleep, their manes were a mess and they seemed to be barely up on their hooves. Princess Luna blinked wearily, her eye lids droopy and heavy. "How did we not even notice that we spent so much time?"

Spike crossed his arms. "Studying I take it," he pointed out, "both of you ought to get some rest now."

Twilight yawned again. "But it's imperative that we must continue-"

"He's right Twilight," Luna chimed in, "we're in no shape to continue. We'll meet again later this evening." Before Twilight could object, Luna disappeared in a flash of light with a distinctive _pop_. Spike began to place the discarded books and volumes back on the bookshelves with a comforting smile on his face.

"Don't worry Twi," he grunted as he lifted a pile of tomes, "I'll put everything back as it was while you take a nap. And I'll have something ready for you when you're fully rested."

She was about to retort but gave out a yawn instead. Eventually she gave in and made for her bed downstairs. Spike felt bad for having scolded Twilight for not having taken a break; granted that studying wasn't a bad habit to have, but sometimes she could be obsessive with it to a fault. And just what was it that she and Princess Luna were so mesmerized by that they forgot about the time? The books he collected had various subjects of astronomy and philosophy. What did these two fields of knowledge have which they possibly shared with one and the other? He couldn't come up with an adequate response to his own query. He opted for finishing up clearing the clutter in the library.

Spike finished cleaning up within moments and decided to get some food done for his sleeping friend. He got out some flakes of hay and fodder and made a few sandwiches with it, leaving them on a plate on the dining table. A low grumble from his stomach compelled Spike to poach for some gems from his stash. He grabbed some opals from the cabinet with the precious gemstones and ate three stones in one go. Spike wasn't exactly one for table manners, so he figured that since he was snacking alone it didn't matter. He had a few sapphires, emeralds and bloodstones before finishing with a cat's-eye, his hunger now fully satisfied.

He was cleaning up after himself when somepony knocked at the door. "_Twilight!_" a familiar voice rang out, "_I know that you're in there!_" Spike hurriedly made for the door and opened to find Pinkie Pie.

"Oh hi Spike," she squealed with glee, "is Twilight home? 'Cause I gotta talk with her and tell her something that she'd want to hear about, and I bet that if she figures out what I had to say later she'll be all upset with me for not having told her earlier and then everyone will be sad an-"

"_No!_" Spike blurted out without warning, interrupting Pinkie's long-winded ramble. He brought his voice down to a whisper, "I mean yes, but she's really, _really_ tired right now and needs to sleep."

She let out a gasp and frowned. "Is she sick?" she asked, her tone far more muted and her words were loaded with genuine concern.

He shook his head. "Nah, she just spent the whole night studying." Then Spike thought up of a suggestion: "Say Pinkie, how about if you tell me what you wanted to tell Twilight, and I'll tell her when she feels better?"

Pinkie's face lit up and she began hopping in place. "That's a _great_ idea Spike!"

She continued prancing excitedly about and around the little dragon, giggling at the thought of telling him. Spike was getting slightly impatient though. "Well? Are you gonna tell me or not?"

"Zecora's holding a party at Ponyville's square soon!" Pinkie beamed, and before he could say anything else she trotted off, skipping all the way.

Spike cocked his eyebrow curiously: usually Zecora kept to herself whenever she visited the town. To say that throwing a party in the middle of town for no reason was out of character for her was an understatement. A more likely scenario was that she probably had something to say to the ponies of the town through a meeting or something. He was done with the day's chores and Twilight was gonna sleep for a while still.

Spike decided to see what Zecora was up to.

* * *

><p>Rarity was returning from her trusted cloth merchant with a cart full of fabrics and other cloth materials. She had received a personal order from Hoity Toity for twenty-three new outfits which were to be showcased in the upcoming Canterlot's fashion show within next week. After a morning of brainstorming, Rarity had a very definite idea of what she was going for and what she would need. A shopping trip later and there she was.<p>

Fantasizing on her outfit designs, Rarity stumbled into a large crowd of ponies gathered quite by accident. It seemed to have been an unusual gathering, and as far as Rarity was concerned, there was no holiday or event that had been scheduled for today. Perhaps there was an impromptu town meeting by Mayor?

With curiosity peaking within her, she decided to take a look and see what the fuss was about, her outfits could wait.

Among the other ponies, Rarity found Applejack, Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy together. "Hey girls!"

Pinkie Pie, her face full of delight, greeted her first. "Hey Rarity! Glad you made it to the party!"

Rarity blinked. "Party?"

"Nah, this ain't no party," Applejack replied, "Pinkie's been gatherin' everypony in Ponyville tah git here, seems like somepony's here tah meet with all of us."

"Yeah!" Pinkie cut in excitedly, "Zecora's come over to town!"

"Zecora?" Rarity asked, now even more bemused than earlier.

Applejack nodded, "Yup, seems like it. Say, have ya seen Dash today? Pinkie Pie's been lookin' all over fer her, and none of us have seen her."

"No I haven't," she answered with a shrug of her haunches, "I've been busy working on some new dress designs." After a quick look around, she asked them, "Where's Twilight?"

With her usual quiet voice, Fluttershy responded, "She's sleeping. Spike told Pinkie Pie that she's been up all night studying."

Applejack shook her head in disappointment. "That girl oughta stop studyin' so darn much. All-nighters ain't good for nopony."

Before anyone of them could continue, a deep voice rang out, silencing the group of friends and the crowd of ponies.

"_Lend me your ears Ponyville!_" it called to them, earning a collective gasp as they saw Zecora on a stand, her expression grave, "_something comes this way, something evil._"

The mass of ponies gave out another shared exclamation. "_They came in a machine, where from I have no inkling,_" she continued, "_but whatever created it is surely no weakling! _

"_Believe you me, massive unlike anything else is its size;  
>The beings even stranger, their intentions unknown to even the wise. <em>

"_You must heed those from Everfree!  
>The animals, all they do is cry and flee! <em>

"_Mind the forest, they have planted themselves there;  
>Keep away, for if you meet one will you have a tale to tell your heir?<em>

"_'_Beware, beware,_' says this mare.  
>Stay out, away from the nightmare.<em>"

And with that she left the stand, casting aside the herd of ponies. They all stood in place, aghast at the appearance of the elusive zebra and of her grim rhymes. Not a single one of them knew how to react to the grisly news from the resident of Everfree Forest. The Bearers of Elements too were at a loss for words or for an adequate response. Silence ruled the square, none of the ponies able to do anything other than to share shocked looks with others.

"Excuse me, pardon, coming through," a small voice said. From the crowd came Spike, eager to see what the excitement had been about. When he saw nothing he frowned.

"Did I miss it?"

* * *

><p><em>Now that you have gone away,<br>I feel so cold, why did I stay?  
>Remember, I'll remember your face so pale,<br>When you left me on that gloomy day…_

The song stopped. Angus had paused the stereo player: he couldn't listen to it anymore. He lay on his bed in his personal quarters feeling nostalgic of the life he had left behind: his country, his city, his home, his friends, his family... his wife… None of whom were likely to have survived after all those years he had spent traveling.

He let out a long sigh; he sacrificed much for a fool's hope, and even then he wasn't sure that it had been worth it. The logical side in him told him that it was still too early to judge the success (or failure) of the mission. Still, too many things had gone wrong; the explosions, sentient life forms... He wished that he was the better man but ultimately he too was only human. Such stress from trying to lead nearly half a million people into an unknown planet and being responsible for them was simply too much for him. Addens practiced Yoga and exercised regularly and strived for a healthy lifestyle, anything to keep his mind and consciousness at peace. Yet nothing worked for long.

There was always the more artificial alternative to clear his mind, but Addens had sworn long ago to never return to the path of drugs. It had nearly ruined his career were it not for the immense support provided by those close to him. Had it not been for them…

_I'd probably be dead before even coming close of reaching 50_, he thought glumly to himself.

The prospect that those same people who had helped him so much were now dead and thus unable to see his accomplishments (none of which would have been possible for their intervention) tore him apart. He was depressed in every sense of the word. Some of those who had helped him were far closer than he wanted to admit to others and to himself.

Angus unconsciously played with his wedding ring. It was nothing ornate: just a plain gold ring, easily the oldest and simplest of ring designs. He rubbed it, feeling the now-faded inscriptions _Regards, Janine_. It brought the memories of a past life into his mind, a happy one. He would give anything, even his own rank to go back to relive those days again. He had no regrets about living with her except for one thing: having lived with her for such a short amount of time.

The commodore kept moping on his bed reminiscing on simpler times for what seemed like hours. A chime from his PC grabbed his attention. He went over to take a look and saw that the Chief of Security – a certain Fosse – wished to contact him. He sat down on his padded couch and took the call. A video of a uniformed officer appeared on his screen. The man saluted.

"Good afternoon, Commodore. I hope that I am not disturbing you."

Angus returned the salute. "Not at all mister Fosse. What did you call me for?"

"One of the colonists on the ship was caught with a large stash of illegal narcotics sir," he replied, "the smuggler has been put under arrest and the narcotics have been seized. As per protocol I have-"

"…sent them to me for deciding how to deal with them," the commodore finished for the security officer, "I gather that you just wanted to give me forewarning about the delivery, correct?"

The officer nodded. "Yessir. That's all I wanted to share."

"Very well, I'll take a look and send you my decision when I'm done. Until then, good afternoon mister Fosse."

Fosse gave one more salute before the image feed closed and the call ended.

Angus slouched on his couch, visibly irritated. He could've done without having to deal with a stash of drugs. Protocol dictated that any illegal drugs seized from suspects would be sent for the commanding officer, deemed the most responsible, for him to determine whether they could be used as supplemental medical supplies or had to be disposed of completely. As a commodore he was required to be able to distinguish such drugs and to deal with said decision. It would otherwise have been a decision to be made by medical staff. If only there were the many allegedly 'potent' drugs which were controversial for medical use: some doctors would welcome a powerful anesthetic while others would condemn its use, deeming it too dangerous. Thus it had been decided that the commanding officer would have the final say on the matter. He would have to take into consideration the good the drugs seized would do as well as the damage if abused as well as the amount: larger stashes were more prone for abuse than smaller ones.

Addens both respected and hated the fact that he was considered as the most rational and neutral out of the entire crew for such a decision. He definitely wasn't the best choice from his point of view, what with his troubled history with drugs. Unfortunately for him protocol did not make any exceptions to this rule. As such he waited for the package.

Within minutes his door bell called for attention; it had arrived. He went over to open the door and was greeted by a young security officer holding a parcel in his arms. "Afternoon Commodore."

Angus greeted back. "Good afternoon mister…?"

"H-Herrold sir," the officer answered with a slight stutter, "Officer Dave Herrold."

"Very well then, mister Herrold; do come in."

The young officer did so and presented the parcel to him. "I have been ordered to show you this, sir: the stash of drugs confiscated from the smuggler."

Angus took the parcel and realized that it was filled with some kind of glass containers when the contents in it shook and jingled. Curious, he laid it on his desk and opened it. At least two dozens of glass vials with an attached inhaler and blue fluid stared back at him. The glass containers must've contained no more than five milliliters of the liquid, but he immediately recognized the potency of the drug and just what it was.

"Triptocaine…" he muttered in astonishment. The officer behind him seemed as amazed as Angus was if not more.

Triptocaine was a very powerful military-grade liquid narcotic designed to ease pain for soldiers in combat situations. It was a closely controlled drug which had at times found itself in the black market when its use as a recreational drug was discovered by some soldiers looking for a joint or a quick buck. Overdosing on triptocaine had been proven fatal nearly on a one-to-one case and its addiction came from the painful withdrawal symptoms: Epistaxis, involuntary twitching in the limbs, temporary weakening of vision, mild impairment of hand-eye coordination, hallucinations, and temporary weakening of muscle functions. The only sure-fire way to stop the attacks is to either wait it out and endure the pain, or to take the drug. With such a choice, nearly every triptocaine user decided to take the easy way out and consumed more of the narcotic, which more often than not led to an eventual overdose.

Unable to help himself, Herrold blew a low whistle. "How the hell did he manage to smuggle so much of this stuff on board?"

That was a good question, but irrelevant to the decision that Angus now had to make. Triptocaine had proven its use various times before as a legitimate painkiller, but there was always the risk of someone taking advantage and abuse the sedative. Not a huge decision as some he had done as commodore but not any less significant.

"We'll keep it," he told the officer, his mind made up, "I'll personally take the triptocaine to the medical bay."

The security officer gave one last salute and left the commodore alone to ponder on the gravity of what he had just decided, suddenly regretting his judgment:

_What did I just do?_

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> This chapter was a PAIN to write, in particular the middle part when everypony gathered to see Zecora. While Zecora's own speech was challenging in itself, what happens just prior and after was hell for me to write. I felt like I rushed it, it looks rushed, and overall I am not happy with how that was written. Everything else is fine for me: got to introduce some new human characters and develop a certain someone.

Keep reviewing people! My will to keep this going feeds on user reviews.

TheArchive: Magic will help bring down the language barrier yes, but it won't be 'oh I got an insta-translator spell which will work on everyone at any given time': what I've got in mind is a tad more complicated than that.

Major Simi: Thanks, the idea of humans colonizing an alien planet but finding it populated had been on my mind for a while and once I saw MLP I finally got down to write it. Personally though, there are some areas in my writing and story on which I could improve on but thanks for the vote of confidence!

Can you spot the references in this chapters? There are two main references: one is to an upcoming movie and the other of a game...


	5. Settling Down Six Feet Under

The halls shined with the sunlight reflected off the white ceramic tiles and columns, giving off a splendor unlike anything that could be found outside of Canterlot. Banners depicting the wise rulers of old hung down in an elaborate pattern leading along with a grand red carpet to the royal throne room where the deity of the sun was sitting at. Princess Celestia was basked in the brilliance of the light of the hall giving her an aura which made her seem all the more divine. She was flanked by two Royal Guardponies, brown unicorn stallions clad in a golden armor with a white crest which went along with their tails, ensuring that the princess was protected at all times.

She was discussing with her personal advisor, a green-eyed light-cyan unicorn named Rayotia, about the agenda for the day. Celestia had ensured that the sun had dawned properly a few minutes back (as her duty demanded) and waited for what the mare had planned for the day.

With a warm smile the mare besides her began with a congratulatory comment: "Well done your highness," she grinned, "that took care of the first matter of the day. Now unto the next one…"

Rayotia skimmed the parchment floating in front of her. "It's a quiet day today," she said looking at the princess, "besides the usual lunch and revision of the previous day in the afternoon, there's nothing for you to do for the whole day."

Celestia felt relief wash over her: while her duties weren't often stressful she did enjoy every pause in her royal schedule immensely seeing as how few and far between they were. She beamed as she considered what activities she could divulge in later.

A merry hum resonated from within her. "Thank you very much Rayotia," she told her, her face calm and gentle, "you may take your leave now."

"Thank you princess," the unicorn replied with a curtsy and headed for the main doors. Just before she could open them they opened from the other side. A pegasus guard with a piece of paper in his mouth stood before her. He ignored Rayotia and galloped past her, a sense of urgency evident in his speed and stone faced expression. He bowed to Celestia as she approached her.

"Rise guard," she told the guard, giving him an inquisitive look with her eyebrow raised.

The pegasus placed the message on the carpet in front of him before explaining himself. "Your highness," he started, keeping his face and voice neutral and even, "a courier from Ponyville has arrived just now with this message. She says that she had been flying all night to bring this directly to you."

Celestia tilted her head curiously to see if there was anypony behind the guard, not that she had seen him enter with another anyways. "May I ask where _is_ this courier then?"

He blinked, his stone-like demeanor fading for just an instant.

"Er," he began hesitantly, "she crashed just outside the castle gates milady. She's being treated by our healers. They say that her eyes were unfocused, so she misjudged her landing."

Princess Celestia took a moment to recognize exactly who the guard was talking about. She couldn't remember her name, but she did recall the mare who had the…_ condition_ of the eyes. She chuckled at her memory of the silly expression that the gray mare sported before turning her attention once more to the awaiting guard.

"Treat our guest with the utmost care," she declared, "ensure that she will be able to fly again as soon as possible."

The guard bowed his head. "It will be done milady."

Celestia then decided to take a look at this message. Without lifting a hoof she brought it in front of her and had it undid the seal by itself for her to read it:

_Dear Princess Celestia,_

_I have disquieting news: strange sightings by a local near Everfree Forest have begun surfacing. There are claims of bizarre happenings occurring within the forest and around it, describing strange machines and beings doing something in the forest._

_I do not mean to inconvenience you with what could possibly be a rumor started as a prank on the town, but the ponies of Ponyville are restless and I have no means to officially prove or disprove the rumors. If you were to be as so kind to have some of the Royal Guard come over, I will personally look into these sightings along with the guard._

_Thank you for a moment of your time,_

_Sincerely, Mayor Mare_

Celestia read the letter once more to ensure that she had read it correctly. Much to her disappointment the message did not change, the same letters and words stared back at her.

She fought the urge to groan in irritation. At times like these the princess was left to muse on whether or not someone or something had the intention to keep her as busy as possible. Celestia's royal etiquette won out and she limited herself to chew on her lower lip, both as a means to display her dissatisfaction and to decide on this matter.

"Guard," she announced to the pegasus still bowing in her presence, "have some guards travel to the town of Ponyville. Tell them that they are to follow the instructions of the headpony of the town Mayor and investigate the Everfree Forest."

All of the guards in the throne room, despite maintaining their unfaltering expressions, snapped their heads to attention at the mention of Everfree Forest, turning to the princess. "Ma'am?" the guard before her asked, a note of disbelief evident in his voice.

"I realize what I am asking of you," she admitted, her eyes glittering as if she pleaded to the guard with them, "there is something perplexing that needs to be looked into. Gather only those who are willing to go there; I am not going to force anypony in that dark place."

The guard blinked once more before bowing his head again. "At once your highness," he responded, withdrawing from throne room at a fast pace.

Celestia shifted in her throne to a more comfortable sitting position; she felt troubled. Granted as Mayor had written to her, the word about anomalous creatures and apparatuses could very well have been nothing but an elaborate hoax thought up by some mischievous ponies. Yet something in her told Celestia that there indeed was something going on in Equestria, something which she could not control: anything which she could not control was not something to turn a blind eye to. It had been well over a thousand years that she had protected Equestria, and anything which she had no power over was a liability to the safety of her people. She would get to the bottom of this.

Then a thought occurred to her, didn't her sister Luna see some strange sights over the night skies as of late? It might have been a mere coincidence, but what if the lights she saw were perhaps connected with the happenings in Everfree? Princess Celestia would have to have a chat with her sibling. But first, she needed to reply to Mayor's letter.

Getting a quill and a clean sheet of paper she began writing: _Dear Mayor..._

* * *

><p>The area of wetland which Lashonda had made her first landing the day before had now grown into a full-fledged encampment complete with a fully functional landing pad and other colonial structures: some of the utilitarian structures had cubical or block shapes, others were either igloo shaped or looked like horizontal half-cylinders. She supposed that the latter were the barracks and the mess hall. The outskirts of camp <em>Challenger<em> was dotted with various DFPs and large HESCO barriers, making the camp seem more like a fortification than a scientific research station.

Her dropship had made another flawless atmosphere entrance and the landing proceeded without fault. Unlike her first trip to Krig 7B, she was carrying new colonists. "Welcome to camp _Challenger _Firefly 12, out," the flight controller in the camp greeted the shuttlecraft pilot.

"Much obliged," she said as she opened the ramps and began the post-landing checks and terminating the shuttlecraft's functions.

From her viewing screens Lashonda could see the ground operators wheeling in a solar battery and rocket fuel tank towards the dropship to refuel it for the next flight; they reminded her of diligent worker ants tending to their queen. Once she was finished with her part of the landing procedure and gotten her bag with her personal possessions, she made for the opened doors. Just before reaching the ramp Lashonda caught whiff of something that caught her off guard. At first she believed that it was perhaps an artificial aroma that someone had brought along with them. Only with a deep breath did she realize that it was Krig 7B's air.

It wasn't so much as the elevated humidity that surprised her – the camp was in a wetland after all – or the perfectly temperate climate; rather it was the clean air. It was completely pristine, untainted by centuries of mass fossil fuel combustion as was the case back on Earth. Just breathing in the alien air seemed to rejuvenate the pilot. Not even the _Promise_'s environmental support could pump air this clean.

After taking a few more deep breaths she walked down the ramp along with the colonial passengers to meet up with the pilot who was due for his shift. A man similarly clad as she was with shades came up to her. "Lieutenant Angelus?" he asked as he offered his hand.

Lashonda shook his hand. "Yours truly Master Sergeant," she answered, taking a quick look at the pilot's rank, "you take good care of my bird while I'm gone, a'right?"

The pilot gave a light chuckle. "Don't worry Lieutenant," he said with a lax salute, "she won't even have a scratch on her when I get back."

Before the sergeant left Lashonda called to him one more time: "Do ya know where I can find a sergeant Bowie?"

"You should find him by the barracks giving hell to some marines," he replied before entering the shuttle.

She slung her bag over her shoulder and began seeking Sergeant Bowie. She headed towards one of the half cylindrical structure, specifically the one where most of the soldiers were either relaxing or doing working on small chores and tasks at. Lashonda soon began hearing someone scolding someone else with the fervor of an inquisitor of olden times. She circled around the building and found an NCO pacing around two marines who were counting off their push-ups.

With caution she approached the NCO, and heard more of the man's colorful language...

"Fucking worms is what you two are! You think that I wouldn't have known that you assholes stole from the fucking pantry of the goddamn mess hall? I have your names, I _own_ you pieces of shit! You are my fucking responsibility, and I am _not_ gonna have a bunch of nobodies like you make me look like a spineless maggot who stays back, doing jackshit while the likes of you fuck around!"

He stopped; his was gaze on one of the marines, the one who seemed to be struggling. "What the hell do you think you are doing private?" the man yelled, squatting down by the marine.

The marine let himself drop from mid-push-up. He was exhausted, his breathing ragged and shallow and his brow red and sweaty.

The NCO roared in the poor soldier's ear. "_Get the fuck back up right now!_"

Trying not to get the officer any more irate the man tried to get himself off the ground; it was to no avail. "You are a_ fucking cock-sucker! _You get up right now, or I will personally _skullfuck the living shit out of you!_"

Again the marine tried to raise himself up, getting up farther than before, but faltered at the last second and froze up.

The officer would have none of it. He got the soldier on his feet and got in his face. "Stop feeling sorry for yourself private," he snapped at the man, "ten laps around the barracks, _now_."

Out of breath, he gave off a weak 'yessir' and began to jog.

Lashonda seized the opportunity. "Sergeant Bowie?" she asked tentatively. The NCO turned to face her and she got her first look of the man. He was of African descent and very large. Despite being in his MCCUU with the sleeves covering his arms his muscles were very defined and bulky. Visually he was intimidating, even without hearing his booming voice.

"Good morning ma'am," he said with a salute, recognizing her rank, "welcome to the camp."

She returned the salute, noticing the sergeant's shift in tone: had she heard not heard him before the man would've sounded like a gentle giant.

"Lieutenant Angelus," she offered, "they told me that you'd take care of me."

"Yes ma'am, unfortunately I got my hands full with those two thieves," he pointed to the marine still counting off push-ups, "so I'll have a marine assigned to you."

He looked around and called to another marine who was passing by. "Private Vara, get over here."

The private ran to meet the sergeant and stood to attention. This marine had brownish hair kept high and tight by marine standards which were a striking contrast to his ice blue eyes. He must've been in his late twenties, with his face still young and smooth. While he was tall and relatively well built the marine was dwarfed by the massive sergeant. He wore the same woodland utility uniform as the sergeant but opted to have his sleeves rolled up.

"This here is Lieutenant Lashonda Angelus, Air Force," Bowie said, showing him the pilot, "you are going to lead her to her living quarters and show her around the camp. If she asks anything of you do it, otherwise I'll be a very unhappy staff sergeant, you get me?"

"Yessir, Staff Sergeant sir!"

The staff sergeant, pleased, relieved the marine before leaving to check up on the troublemakers.

Lashonda looked at the private. "So," she said, "we gonna stand here all day or what?"

She and her guide left the sergeant alone with the marine who was now worn out, afraid of what was to come.

* * *

><p>"Do you need anything else Lieutenant?"<p>

"How many times do I gotta tell ya?" Angelus asked in an annoyed voice as she made herself comfortable in her new living chamber, "just call me Lashonda, I really don't mind having you call me by my given name; us folks from the air force ain't as uptight as you grunts may think."

Vara bit his lip to try to ignore the derogatory nickname before continuing. "Well, uh, Lashonda; if you need anything else just ask."

She dismissively waved a hand while she began unpacking her belongings. "Yeh, yeh, I'll be sure to holler."

"Lunch will be in a few minutes," Guy added, "do you remember the way to the mess hall?"

"Nah," the pilot responded cheekily in a cynical tone, "I'll just live off the land and eat nothin' but roots and berries. Of course I know where it is, I'm not a five-years-old."

_She certainly is something_, Guy thought to himself, a small smile growing on him. With that he left the room and made his way for the mess hall.

The mess hall had expanded considerably ever since they had first made landfall, from a somewhat humble building it had turned into a sprawling hub not just to eat in but commute. Had it not expanded the camp would be hard pressed to feed the influx of colonists. As Guy expected the mess hall was full of people, some getting in line early to get first pickings, others simply hanged about at the tables and benches, marines and colonists alike. Were this a few centuries earlier one wouldn't find military and civilians mingling with each other so seamlessly; Vara didn't know why but seeing all of those soldiers and colonists chatting, laughing and eating together warmed his heart. Were it not for the uniforms, they could have well been just people having a good time as far as he could see.

Not seeing any of his friends Guy decided to get himself some food. Nothing special today: just some soup, a dish of salted beef and a small salad on the side, all defrosted. _At least they're not serving toothpaste food_, he thought to himself, a weak attempt to lighten himself up.

He left the cafeteria and began searching for a vacant seat or table.

"Oi!" a man with a distinct Australian accent called out over the noise in the area, "over 'ere Guy."

Turning to the direction of the voice, Vara saw someone waving at him. He'd recognize the accent and face anywhere: Eric Chase. Another of Guy's friends, Eric had a striking look about him, mainly his forest green eyes, seeing how they contrasted with his aboriginal heritage. His nose was flat and he had a dominant and large chin, with the top of his head receding back. He was barrel-chested, but only by requirement, seeing as he was Vara's platoon medic: he didn't enjoy exercising too much nor did he need to do as much as the other marines did. Eric was sitting with Clinton at a reserved bench, ready to start eating.

Vara greeted the duo as he approached them. "Hey Eric! Haven't seen you since we made landfall."

"Ah, you know how the top brass are" he said, a merry look on his face, "they kept us D's in briefing for hours on end to cover all 'possible threats'. Couldn't even sleep fer the first day; had quite a few cases of faulty masks, leaky gas exchangers, chaos an' panic in tha streets, dogs an' cats livin' togethar."

"Just like how the Corps likes it," Clinton chimed in, earning a heartfelt laugh from the table.

As the laughter subsided, Eric asked "Which reminds me, didn't Joker react badly when he lost his mask?"

The mood changed instantly. "Yeah, panic attack," Clinton responded, his tone somber, "Ah really didn't mean fer that whole screamin' an' stuff. It was jus' Joker doin' his thing, and Ah reacted badly."

Eric placed an assuring hand on the Texan's arm. "It could'a been worse, at least he's still living an' breathing."

"Speak of the devil," Clinton exclaimed, "howdy Joker!"

Both Eric and Guy were surprised, but thankful, when they turn to see Neil Burbidge, his grin still as large as ever, coming towards their table.

He sat down. "How's it been fellas?"

"We were all worried about ya mate," Chase told the Kansas native, "how ya holdin' up then?"

Neil paused to get himself comfortable in his seat. "Just fine and dandy," he answered, and after noticing Clinton he added, "and I forgive you big guy."

"You rascal you," Clinton said with a predatory smile, before hugging the smaller man, "you had me goin' there, what with ya'll shaking like a leaf in autumn."

Neil patted the Texan's back. "Yeah it's alright Clint, I had _me_ going there for a second."

Another series of cackles emanated from the table of marines. Then he put on a roguish expression when he spoke up. "And that's not the best bit: the doctor's told me that I should avoid 'stressful activities' for the next few days."

Burbidge clapped his hands. "So no out-of-camp duties for two days!"

This time the others moaned. "Ya lucky sonuvabitch," Clinton punched playfully at his shoulder, "git one measly fright and he gets two days off. How tha hell do ya do it boy?"

Neil shrugged, wearing an innocent face. "It just happens. Maybe you should have your mask punched off next time, Clint."

Smiles only this time. For a long moment no one said anything, each one of them content of how well their friend was. Suddenly Guy broke the silence:

"So we gonna eat up? Us _working_ marines," he looked hard at Neil, "gotta get ready for the South-East and North science recons."

As everyone began digging in, Eric, still chewing a bit of the hard beef asked, "Is that right after lunchtime?"

With a nod of the head the medic swore under his breath. "I need to smoke a fag after eating."

That earned him some odd looks. "A _cigarette_," he clarified, clearly annoyed, "_bloody yanks…_"

They continued their meal in relative silence.

* * *

><p>Of all of the things that Eric could have been thinking about, his mind was solely focused on how badly he needed a smoke. Yet there he was, clad with a gas mask and full equipment, marching along with the escort assigned to the surveillance vehicle. The escort included a fourteen strong squad, including the Aussie medic. The convoy had by then traveled through forest for a mile, occasionally stopping for scans from the science vessel. The vehicle itself was a long eight-wheeled flat bed with forest camo and various instruments and apparatuses, a scientist manning each one.<p>

Two hours had passed since their departure when a scientist radioed in, "Stop, I'm getting some strange readings here; we're gonna want to take a look at this..."

With that the driver brought the flatbed to a halt, the marines following suit. The squad leader immediately got to work and barked orders to his men: "I want a full fire perimeter covering everything around the primary objective; keep an eye out for any movement."

Eric watched the vehicle's seven-o'-clock along with Clinton who was covering eight. Despite the alertness of the marines they allowed themselves for some small banter between themselves.

As much as Chase hated to admit it he was unnerved by the dark forest. He had never been in such a thick forest before – not that they had many forests in Australia to begin with – and it was a miracle that the flatbed could manage off road drive through such terrain.

He eyed every possible hiding and ambush point: bushes, trees, creeks, outcrops…_we're so vulnerable in the open_, he realized as he scanned the tree line with his submachine gun, a cloud of doubt plaguing his mind.

Had they been allowed to bring armored cars then it would have likely been a different story; too bad that command felt that one vehicle out per recon squad was already too much and any more would have attracted too much attention.

_Fucking pricks is what they are._

Minutes passed by while the scientists analyzed the landscape. Too many minutes, too long: Eric was now not only bothered by his tobacco craving but his need to relieve himself as well.

"Sir?" he patched to his squad leader through his helmet radio, "permission ta take a piss in a bush sir?"

The officer's static-like voice in Eric's helmet brought his answer: "Alright corpsman, make it quick."

He turned quickly to the Texan to his right. "Can ya watch 7 while I'm off, Clint?"

"Jus' don't go wanderin' too far pardner," Clinton implored, a small chuckle punctuating his answer.

"Well I need my fockin' privacy," the medic shot back as he headed for the dense foliage, "anyone watching will be dead meat."

"Hey," Clinton called back, "Ah'm serious: don't stray too far from us."

Eric dismissed his companion-in-arms' advice and entered the thick tree line, leaving the safety of the convoy.

* * *

><p>Trixie was pleased, <em>very<em> pleased.

It had taken her a full week of stalking in the _horrid_ Everfree Forest, but she was finally on a trail; _the_ trail, that is. The Great and Powerful Trixie had proved once again that she was no mere illusionist and that she had the capacity to do what few other ponies would dare to even contemplate. If only somepony could see her now…

_They'd see a small, dirty, hungry, and frightened azure unicorn who just wants to go back home._

Trixie shook her head. No! She was great; she was powerful; she was—

_Hopelessly lost and had no idea what she was searching for, let alone what she was tracking._

No, no, _no!_ She was _the_ Great and—

_Pathetic._

A-and Power—

_Wretched._

Tri—

Weakling.

"_Get out of my head!_" Trixie yelled, ridding herself of such thoughts.

She took a moment to regain her composure and remember what she was doing. She was on a trail, yes, but whose? It wasn't a pony's, or at least highly unlikely, who would enter Everfree anyways? So it was definitely a wild animal, exotic, not something seen outside of the forest which could be...

"Anything from Everfree forest," she concluded, her tone completely defeated. "Celestia's mane I am so _useless!_"

If only she had read up more on the elusive but dangerous creatures of the forest, then perhaps she would have been able to track one and defeat it; for real that is. That's what that Twilight Sparkle did: study, study, and study some more. Trixie was a naturally gifted magic user but she never did go beyond the parlor tricks which had been her show for so long. Granted they were better than what most unicorns could do but they were still tricks, not powerful spells. She had been practicing on some of the more potent spells as of late; yet managing to make a tin can fly off from a shot of lighting was not the same as using it against an Ursa Major or, hay, an Ursa Minor. If she was to make a name for herself once more then Trixie needed to practice on smaller but still dangerous animals, such as the cockatrice and then slowly work her way up. Before all that though, she needed to understand these creatures better and the only safe way to do so was by studying.

But where could she arrange the books? The Ponyville library banned her and Canterlot's library could only be accessed by a royal family member or with special permission from one of the Royal Sisters. Trixie could have tried traveling to the more distant cities like Manehattan and Fillydelphia, but ever since that accursed Ursa Minor destroyed her one-pony-show wagon she had to leg it; such places were simply too far for her to reach.

As such the only books which she did own were either bought, borrowed or, as much as Trixie hated to admit it, begged from traveling ponies. While she was no stranger of a life on the road she definitely had a hard time doing it all without her old trusty carriage. At least in her wagon things were kept organized, they were static, they would always be there, in contrast to the constant packing and unpacking with a tent; a very old and worn tent.

Trixie hated that life.

The Great and Powerful Trixie deserved better than a flimsy bit of canvas and wood for shelter, she deserved regular showers and proper meals.

And yet there she was: skulking in a dark forest known for its mysteries and dangers, without a definite plan as to what she was really going to do if she found whatever she was tracking.

It was a clear sunny day, but the thick trees blocked out the sun and had made it dark, not as dark as night but it came quite close. Birds happily tweeted and chirped their songs, there was the soft _pitter-patter _of squirrels collecting acorns, the rattling of an angered sna—

_A snake. _

There was a snake, rattling furiously, its almond-shaped eyes locked with Trixie's own gaze.

_That's a snake._

She had to stand perfectly still an—

_It's looking right at me._

Her book said not to move a mus—

_The snake is still rattling._

As still as a—

It hissed.

Trixie took off galloping away at full speed in panic. In what direction she couldn't tell, it was all a blur and she wasn't in control of her primal fears and instincts. The only thing that Trixie's mind was sure of was that she was going as far away as she could from the snake.

She galloped past trees, past thick bushes and even at one point jumped over a boulder just to avoid wasting time going around it. She could feel the brushing of leaves and the hard whips from old dry branches. But it didn't matter that it hurt her, Trixie _needed_ to be away from there, _as quickly as possible._

Eventually, after running for many yards her legs began to slow down, wobbly and weak from the lack of fuel. Trixie let her body rest (or, more appropriately, collapse) on the base of a tree stump. Her legs were burning, completely exhausted from the run and the lack of proper nutrition; she found herself breathing faster, trying to alleviate her poor lungs, completely wiped out after such a dash.

Trixie rested by that small stump for several minutes until her body recovered and her adrenaline in her blood was completely gone.

_Okay_, she thought in an attempt to make sense what happened, _I panicked and ran in a random direction. Where am I now?_

Wherever she was now, Trixie needed to get out. She lost the trail and was now far off the beaten path, not that there were any beaten paths to begin with, and she had to regain her bearings. _So I can get out of here._

No, no, the Great and Powerful Trixie had needed such a deviation! To track the untraceable one must _be _lost, right? Yes, it was exactly what she needed and knew that she would have to get back on track; well, at least once her body was rested. A quick break wouldn't hurt.

She took the time to listen in the ambience of the forest around her. Much like before there were birds singing and fluttering about, blissfully ignorant of the Everfree Forest's dangers and of her. Thankfully there were no snakes in sight nor ear shot this time.

And then something changed: the sounds of the forest became more subdued. Why? Perhaps they had noticed her? No they would've stopped singing as soon as she had arrived. Someone or some_thing _else was close. While contemplating the implications Trixie heard rustling nearby. Her body tensed, ready to fight or, more likely, fly. She took a deep breath and sucked it up.

Slowly and carefully she inched her way to the moving bushes, dragging her body as close as possible to the ground. For all of the extravaganza and flamboyant flair about her, Trixie was not quite ready to make herself conspicuous. She stuffed her head through the bushes and took a peek.

Even the Great and Powerful Trixie was taken aback at what she saw:

It was clad in a shirt with a vest over it, strange metal attachments hanged down from it (_amulets or charms?_) and the many pockets on the vest. It stood on its hind legs (_like a Diamond Dog or a monkey, but straighter_) its other legs holding a curious-looking metallic object not with hooves but with hands. Unlike what she knew these hands bore neither claws nor spikes, and seemed to be made of a soft brownish bronze leathery skin (_never seen anything like that_). A strapped helmet with a cloth-like material covered the top and much of the back of the head; the face was hidden by a dark mask (_what a frightening mask_) with odd projections to the left and front side of face. All of the creature's clothing items were designated with a seemingly random pattern of colors which helped it blend in with the forest environment (_to hide from what?_) while the mask itself was a dark gray, nearly black. The being was completely covered with clothing and artificial skins except for the hands and the neck (_that _is_ a neck, right?_).

It was nothing like she had ever seen before, what could it possibly have been? A sort of scale-less dragon? Perhaps some kind of Diamond Dog without the characteristic hanged gait and other obvious traits? Whatever it was it wasn't a pony.

What the Great and Powerful Trixie saw in the creature however, was the opportunity to gain her name back: she would take down this mysterious animal and bring it back for fame and glory!

She placed down her bags gently to avoid detection and kept observing the biped to formulate a plan to capture it. She also removed her hat so that her horn was unobstructed, still keeping her eyes on the creature. What _was_ it doing it anyways? It kept looking around, ensuring itself that it was alone. It then gauged a tree; perhaps it was going to climb it? Eat the leaves or bark?

The creature propped its metallic object on a tree besides him and stood straight in front of the tree of interest. Its hands fondled with its lower half, at the joining of its back legs and…

Oh.

_Ooh…_

Well, at least Trixie now knew that _it_ was a _he _and what _he_ was doing.

This was her chance; he was at his most vulnerable, too busy relieving himself to pay attention to his surroundings. She searched her mind for the incantation needed for a stun charm, her horn glowing in a faint purple aura. The charm was ready: all Trixie needed to do now was to release the magical charge stored in her horn and it'd be done in a second.

Yet doubts began to surface. Was the stun spell powerful enough to put down the animal? Could she bring back the creature (and herself) back to civilization? And, more importantly, was it right to do this?

_No. It isn't. And you know it better than anyone else Trixie._

The Great and Powerful Trixie would've been stronger; she wouldn't have had second thoughts on such matters. However even she realized, begrudgingly, that while she had the capacity to carry it out, Trixie herself did not have the willpower to do it. Prudence won out and she began withdrawing.

And then something changed: it was subtle, but the birds' tweets silenced themselves. What happened now?

A dark figure approached from the shadows, skulking behind the upright animal. This time it was not at all difficult for Trixie to recognize.

And it frightened her to no end.

* * *

><p><em>Much better<em>, Eric thought as he closed his zipper, his body now fully satisfied. Had he waited a few minutes longer he would've exploded. _Thank God for trees_, he smiled to himself. He made sure to tuck his trousers properly before he noticed something odd:

The birds had stopped singing.

He hadn't heard them that much before, what with his mask dampening all outside sounds yet he was sure that the birds had brought their tweets to an end, as if they were… scared. Maybe another marine had come over to him from behind.

"What did Oi tell ya blokes?" he hissed in irritation, still checking that none of his equipment fell off, "if it's you I am going ta murder y—"

Something interrupted his wordy frustration, and it wasn't a human voice; it was a low and aggressive growl. A sense of dread filled Eric as he turned to look behind him.

Beastly yellow eyes gazed back at Eric, burning into his mind. They belonged to a nightmarish being which took the form of a lion with huge bat wings, red as blood. It bored its yellowing teeth, a sickly slither of dark drool oozed from the corner of the jaw. It stood on its four burly legs in an intimidating stance, as if ready to pounce at the slightest whim.

Chase's body scrambled, the reins controlling it now gone and he wasn't sure what his flailing arms were trying to achieve. He ordered his body to reach for the submachine gun by his side, still uncertain whether or not it could've helped him.

The beast must've sensed his intentions, because it moved with terrible speeds and struck him. A blur flashed and disappeared, and all Eric felt was something large sting his left shoulder. Whatever it was it had punctured deep into the vest and retracted itself out rapidly before Eric could've seen what exactly it was.

The wound burned painfully enough for the Australian to exclaim a sound, mixing pain, shock, astonishment and fear together into one incoherent word. The force had been great, he staggered back as a result. Now his mind was regaining control and he once more made for the discarded weapon, his eyes locked on the monster. Much to Eric's amazement the lion-like creature held its ground, not reacting to the soldier's attempt to recollect his firearm. Perhaps it didn't know what he planned to do so it just stood there, watching his every move.

Eric's eyes widened when he saw what seemed to be a malevolent grin growing on the animal's face. It was _smiling?_

Impossible, no animal besides humans could smile like that; it was just a wild beast which – which…

Wait._ Wha- what's happening?_

Eric's arms were slowing down and so was everything else: his hands, his legs, his breathing, even his mind. His hands had reached the gun but his fingers were too numb for him to grasp it. Only then had he noticed that the burning sensation in his shoulder had gone, replaced by a numb feeling;

_And it was spreading._

Soon he couldn't move his arms, then his legs gave way and he collapsed in the tall grass. His eyes drooped, heavy with the sudden need to sleep. The slower heart rate and breathing compounded this need to just shut his eyes and have a long rest.

Eric tried all that he could to fight that urge, heaving and fluttering his eyes trying to keep himself awake. It was, unfortunately for him, a losing battle. Even his mind had been affected by the poison which had by then taken over the body.

His vision darkened, Eric could still make out the figure approaching him as the lion which had attacked him, its predatory grin, while blurry, was still apparent. A final attempt to stay awake failed, and now, completely powerless to do anything, watched the beast clamp down on his stomach with its fangs.

Much to his surprise and horror he felt nothing: no pain, no discomfort, no pressure, nothing at all. All that Eric could think of, seeing his own body being mauled by a monster of another world, was how odd it felt: he could see his blood seeping out from his wound, covering his vest with dark splotches, and yet he did not feel a thing.

The warmth had by then left his body. The only heat Chase could still feel was in his mind, an attempt to make his death as comfortable as possible. Darkness engulfed him. A small sparkle of light was the last thing he saw.

And when he lost that speck of heat and felt no more. "We're finished here," one of the flatbed operators stated, "time to head back SL."

"Saddle up ladies!" the squad leader barked, "We're going home."

"Hold yer horses sir," the gruff Texan called, "Chase ain't here yet."

The officer grumbled, marching crossly towards the back of the flatbed and Clinton. "Goddamn that Aussie, as soon as I find him I'll…" he trailed off as he activated his radio.

"Foxtrot PL calling Fox eight, get your ass back to the flatbed, we're leaving."

No answer.

He spoke into his two-way again. "Fox eight, don't play games with me. Report, _now._"

Nothing but static. Now he wore an anxious expression rather than an irritated one. "Fox eight? Do you copy me?"

The radio replicated nothing other than background noise. The squad leader looked around only to see the worried looks of the other squad members. Then he dropped his head to think.

"Reifstack and Foreman," he finally called, pointing to the two marines, "get the idiot over here, and I don't care if he's pant less, just get him here."

The two soldiers exchanged looks and, with a shrug, got going.

Foreman attempted to get a conversation going. "So uh, Clinton, was it?"

Clinton grunted in acknowledgement. He checked his sides for anything.

"You're…friends with that Aussie?"

Another grunt. He used his rifle's barrel to lift some vines to see through the foliage.

"Does he tend to do stuff like this, just to mess with the NCO?"

This time the Texan stared hard at the other soldier. "Eric wouldn't do anythin' like this. He ain't Joker. Somethin' definitely happened to him."

Foreman fell quiet. Clinton blinked in surprise: _I didn't think I was that harsh_. The man still kept staring, slowly raising his rifle. "Turn around," he finally whispered, "_slowly._"

"What are ya playin' at Foreman?"

Still aiming his rifle, behind Clinton he realized, the soldier's voice was stern but frightened: "Behind you. Look, behind, you."

The Texan obliged him, albeit slowly and with his weapon poised. A large body lay there, rising slowly up and down with each breath.

It was a red lion. With bat wings and a scorpion-like tail. It was sleeping soundly; its snore was a low rumbling hum resonating powerfully through the open air. The creature was larger than a regular lion, and even though it was sleeping it was still an intimidating sight to behold.

Foreman inched close to Clinton. "Do you see that blood?"

He pointed to a small pool of still-fresh blood by the paws of the lion. Only then did Clinton notice that along with the animal's near-black saliva, an ooze of blood seeped from its jaws. Just a ways off there stood a discarded SMG, Eric's weapon, but no body.

"Oh mah Lord… Where is he?"

"I—I," Foreman stammered, "think it ate him."

Without second thoughts Clinton aimed his rifle at the sleeping beast's head and squeezed off a burst in cold revenge. The air resounded with the echoes of gunshots. Birds took off from the thunder of the gun. The beast didn't have enough time to wake to see its own death. The first shots fired on Krig 7B had failed to save a life.

Their radios crackled to life. "Gunshots heard, please confirm."

Foreman answered for Clinton: "That's ah… copy, shots fired. Hostile wildlife encountered and neutralized."

"Report status on Fox eight."

He shifted his gaze to Clinton's to seek for any suggestions, finding none. "Body not recovered. Assumed KIA."

A long silence.

"Copy Fox six," the response came, "mark the location of the alien body and return to the convoy, we're going back to camp."

The radio signal faded out and the two marines were on their own. They stood there looking down at the corpse the lion. Foreman kept shaking his head in disbelief. Clinton glanced and moved about searching.

"What are you looking for?"

"That _thing_ couldn't have eaten Eric completely in ten minutes," he explained, "if there's no body than he must've scrammed before dyin'."

He kept on scrutinizing the nearby area without hesitation, still holding on to the hope that Eric was still alive, somewhere.

"Clinton," Foreman chimed in, his tone solemn, "there is no body. That thing looks like a manticore."

Clinton stopped. "What?"

"An ancient creature from Babylonian mythology," he clarified, "legends say that it could devour entire bodies in minutes, leaving nothing in its trace."

Foreman placed his hand on Clinton's shoulder.

"He's gone."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> So, **SO**, sorry for this being so late, but I had moved apartment, settled into University life, and the likes. As compensation, here's a longer chapter. Hope it makes it up for you all. :)

Paxtofettel: Got the Heavy Rain right, though the second reference was the song in the final chapter, which is to the upcoming movie _Iron Sky_.

Solrac III: I know, evil wasn't the right word, but I couldn't make it work any other way unfortunately. Though I don't want to spoil it, I'll just tell you not to worry just yet. You shall see soon. :)


	6. An Apology from the Author

As you've probably have realized by now this story's been dead for several months. I have had a lot of struggles with writing chapter six, some reasons were legitimately out of my control while a few others weren't so. I won't make any excuses, regardless of their validity, because I'll just come out and say this now:

I **won't** be finishing this.

Now before you say anything, allow me to explain chapter six's development.

For a long time after publishing the first five chapters I found my creative mindset lacking. Those first five chapters were essentially written within a week, which accounts to over 20,000 words, the longest piece I've ever written. Then I spent some time with family for the holiday season so I found myself too preoccupied with festivities than with the story. I got some work done but not much.

Eventually though I got hit hard by university. As I mentioned in my EQD comments, I was struck by depression twice and I felt no motivation to continue my work. This bout of depression lasted for a long while before I recovered. While my university work had me busy, I managed to get a lot done with the chapter, eventually ending up with some 16,000 words just on the chapter alone, not including the various research, notes and general timeline that I wrote up. Things seemed good and I was about ready to publish it, when I realized that much of it wasn't what I had originally set out to do: essentially in the chapter I made the marines fall deep into the 'Soldiers/Humans are heartless bastards' trope, which for various reasons created problems not for how readers would react, but also for how the story would later develop. I intended to display the marines in a good light and try to show that as much as they weren't happy with being in the Everfree, they'd be willing to fight through to the end if they needed to.

Instead they became even more two-dimensional and all of my pre-readers agreed with me. So I deleted half of it and rewrote it.

At one point it came back up to 14,000 words limit (which it still wasn't quite finished) when I somehow lost the USB pen which held the chapter in progress and pretty much all of my other notes that I had on the story, including proper translations (which were a bitch to get without friends who know the languages). You can imagine my frustration at this point.

Luckily I did have part of the chapter saved in the Doc Manager that Fanfiction uses, so I hoped that maybe I could get it all done eventually.

Yet as I was rewriting it for a second time, I began asking myself what I was doing exactly: I was writing a story that I would enjoy reading immensely, but I realized it was not one that I _could_ write.

I know it sounds weird, but I found that as hard as I tried, the story just never looked complete; something was always missing, something that I could always improve. I felt that the first time rewriting this and the second time doing this. At this rate I'd never get it done, but I what I can write I feel wouldn't do the story justice.

I hate even considering to abandoning the story, but I really can't really bring myself to continue the story in a way that the story deserves. So no more point to just saying 'just hang on, it'll come soon', because it won't. My life's getting more and more hectic and I'm never satisfied with the story.

However, that is not to say that I'm leaving this story for dead.

If any of my readers have a good writing skill, I am more than willing to give away my story, some of my surviving notes, and the general outline of Colonization. If need be, I can even give my non-completed sixth chapter and have it be edited/rewritten by a new writer and have him/her continue the story. Just send me a PM if you're interested

I am planning to write new stories (probably not on Fanfiction, likely they will be on Fimfiction) and I do intend to write some form of HiE story in a somewhat serious manner.

Once more, I am really sorry for this turn of event. I'm to blame for this mess, but I hope that we can all get something out of it. Here's to a promising future for Colonization: First Contact.

~G.I.U.L.I.O.


End file.
